The Monster of the Arena
by Assan-Mahariel
Summary: He was supposed to die: this was a fact that Gabriel knew well. But then suddenly he was trapped in an unwilling vessel. An experiment of the Galra combining angel and soul, Gabriel and Lance must find a way to survive the arena until they find out how to escape. That's easier said than done when they're miles from Earth and spend most days with their minds combined into one.
1. Chapter 1

(I don't own Voltron or Supernatural)

When my brother killed me, I didn't expect the yanking feeling that suddenly tugged at my Grace. I didn't expect my wings burning to hurt so much. I didn't expect to open my eyes.

My Grace felt like it was burning, but I could feel that my wings were still intact.

I had been forced into a different vessel, without either of our permission, and both of us were screaming as we burned, twin voices erupting from our shared throats simultaneously. I moved to escape the vessel, but sigils and wards had been tattooed onto the vessel's skin, still red with evidence of having been placed recently, trapping me, as well as scratched onto the metal keeping us on the flat surface I could feel beneath our back. The metal creaked as our shared body writhed against the warded metal bonds, strength boosted by my Grace.

"It's working," the pointed-eared, yellow-eyed, blue-skinned being looming above us said to someone out of my sight. It turned its eyes onto us, "you'll need to grant it permission to stay, Blue Paladin, or you'll join the bodies of the failed experiments. Both of you will."

The wards were not like the ones I was familiar with. The thought flashed across my mind before being washed away by the ever continuous flood of pain.

Instinctively, I pumped some Grace into the vessel's head, starting to turn off the poor sod's pain receptors. I still burned, but the vessel could no longer feel pain. I flipped on the metaphorical calm switch while I was at it and his rapid heartbeat slowed down.

The vessel stilled; I wasn't 'logged in,' so to speak, so the vessel wasn't moved by my agony.

Elf thing waited a moment before it cursed, and then it motioned towards someone, "he'll be dead soon. The winged creatures always kill the host before they die."

Now that his mind was able to focus enough for me to do it, I did the Archangel specialty.

Aka, I threw some Grace in to talk to the kid's subconscious.

 **"Hiya, kiddo," I said as I sat down next to the boy's subconscious on the sand of a beach I've never been to but already knew. I'd flown over it a couple times before, and so I recognized it as a beach in Cuba.**

 **The kid glanced at me before turning his eyes to the ocean.**

 **"I'm not going to let you turn me against my team," he said, staring at the waves lapping against the shore.**

 **"I don't even know what's going on," I told him.**

 **"I'm dying?"**

 **"There's that," I shrugged again, "buuuut you don't have to."**

 **"Either that or they use me against the rest of the Paladins," the boy dug his toes into the sand, "I miss Earth."**

 **"We're not on it?" I frowned before shaking my head, "that's not important. Look, kid, you don't have much time left and, frankly, I'm not sure if I do either. I'm not the bad guy. But if you don't grant me permission to be here, then you're going to die here. There's a chance you'll get out of this, but you'll never know if your life ends here."**

 **The kid shrugged, "they don't need me. They still have my Lion."**

 **I had to keep myself from rolling my eyes, "you can pity yourself later. Right now, we have more important matters to attend to. If you die right here, right now, you'll never know if you could prove yourself. Never see Earth again. You want to live long enough to get home one day, right?"**

 **The boy sighed and dug his toes deeper into the sand.**

 **"I know I want to live long enough to get home one day," I told him softly, "if home ever becomes home again."**

 **The boy shrugged after a long moment.**

 **"Okay. Fine."**

 **"I'll need something more binding than that, my friend."**

 **"Yes."**

My wings spread out of the vessel, and I let them flop onto the floor in my exhaustion. Almost dying twice really seemed to have taken it out of me. I stopped burning.

I gasped, opening my eyes, testing my fingers.

Something touched my feathers and I flinched, startled that the touch had landed instead of going straight through.

"This one has six wings," a voice gasped in astonishment. I recognized it as the voice of elf thing. I went to yank my wing away, but the grip tightened on it and I was too tired to put up much of an opposition. I felt a prick of pain as one of my feathers was pulled.

I growled and ripped my wings from her grasp, pulling them as closely to myself as I possibly could, which wasn't much.

"You have six wings," elf thing told me, "the others who survived the transitions all had two."

"Information for information," I told it, giving her my most vicious grin, "how did you get me here?"

It tilted its head, staring at me for so long I figured it would refuse my little game.

"A spell," it answered simply, "now explain."

"It seems you've only had angels," I said, just as simply, "and I am not an angel."

It let out a raspy laugh before speaking, "the spell began as a simple mistake in another spell. Now what are you?"

"It depends on who you ask."

"What if I ask you?"

I smirked, "ah-ah, it's my turn. Where am I?"

"Depends on who you ask."

I let out a laugh of my own, "alright. What about this table? Usually people ask me to dinner first."

"I am Haggar," it said, "now tell me your name."

"Loki."

"Loki," it tried it out for itself.

"Are you female or male?"

"Female," it-she said, "what about you? None of the 'angels' were ever willing to speak to me at all."

"Must be the sticks up their ass," I grinned, "I am neither. And both. Both and neither. Yet I am currently male, as far as my vessel goes. Now, what is it that you want? Most usually go through more than a simple spell to summon me. And never have been **foolish** enough to trap me."

She gave me a wicked grin of her own, "it seems you were foolish enough to be captured."

She motioned towards beings I could sense but not see.

"I grow tired of speaking in circles. Gain information on this Loki. In the mean time, Lotor will be eager to learn how well this creature fares compared to the others. And if he doesn't make it... well, I look forward to dissecting my new toy should he come to an end. Prince Lotor should enjoy being able to prove his capability at leadership."

* * *

They dragged me along, purposely speeding up their pace to do so every time I matched them step for step. They had already pulled on the chain connected to my shackled wrists enough to drag me onto my face several times. This wasn't what had me the angriest though.

Somehow, the Haggar hag was able to see my wings. She'd pinned down my wings and clipped the flight feathers one by one. I was extremely pissed by this turn of events, but the wards tattooed onto my vessel put a hobble on my Grace and I was unable to do much from how I was positioned on the table.

Fortunately, it seemed as if Haggar had been the only one able to see my wings. Other than a couple glances, none of the prisoners in the cells we passed paused to stare. None of them seemed anything like anything I had ever seen. It left me on edge.

They shoved me unceremoniously into a tiny cell at the end of what would otherwise be a dead end. By the time I realized they'd gotten the cuffs off my wrists before shoving me into the cell, an entire wall seemed to have swallowed up the exit behind me.

I examined the smooth metal and where it melted seamlessly into the floor. It was dark. Nothing to see.

I let out a growl and stood there. My wings already ached with how small of an area I was trapped in, and it was too small for me to even sit down.

I let out a shout, using my voice instead of my vessel's. It pierced the room, but nobody came and nothing broke.

 ** _Except my ear drums. Ow._**

I paused and tilted my head. It was odd, being in a vessel where the original host was still with me. My old one had buried himself so deeply within the back of my mind that he may as well have been dead.

 ** _Yeah. Uh, I would appreciate it if I wasn't dead._**

 _Let me think,_ I told him. _I can find a way to get us out of here. The only thing that can hold an Archangel is the cage in Hell._

 _ **Oh, yeah, don't mind me. I just can't hear anything but you when you talk to me via thought magic, and I can't see or feel or hear anything while in my own body.**_

 _That's probably best for right now. We're quite squished into this tiny cell._

He was silent for a moment before talking again, **_I'm Lance._**

 _Gabriel._

 _ **So... Heaven is definitely real and all that?**_

 _Yes._

He went silent and I found the silence unnervi- uh, irritating- in the pitch black, cramped little space.

 _Do you happen to know where we are?_

 _ **Galra ship.**_

 _Galra?_

 **Whooo boy!** I'm not sure how the hell he whistled without vocal cords, **_okie-dokie, Angel guy, looks like I get to be Professor Lance!_**

 _Ah, but I forgot my notebook, professor_ , I grinned, chuckling at the young mortal's antics.

We passed the time this way, with him telling me about the things he'd been up to. He got quiet when it came to missing his family, but was soon off with extravagant retellings of how he had, quote, 'kicked ass in a giant blue mechanical lion.'

* * *

Lance went quiet when he sensed my burst of curiosity as the wall in front of me slid up. I squinted at the brightness, falling forward as I blinked rapidly as my eyes adjusted. Being an Archangel, they adjusted quickly and I quickly pulled myself to my feet, already stretching out my sore and aching wings.

I could feel hard dirt beneath my feet, beat down by others before me. There was a roar, made up of many voices, that echoed all around me; I glanced up, staring with wide eyes at the stands encircling me, placed high enough that I would never have a chance of reaching them with my wings clipped the way they were. Each seat seemed to be occupied, and they all roared, a crazy noise that hurt my enhanced hearing.

 ** _What's going on?_**

 _It seems to be... some sort of arena._

 _ **Arena? For what?**_

I took the chance of visibility to examine what exactly I was working with, not answering Lance's question for I had no answer for him.

My vessel was definitely taller than my last one. Already well built, too. I figured I probably looked like the form Lance was in when I delved into his mind to gain permission to stay.

I was barefoot and shirtless, with some sort of soft material trousers/shorts that ended just above my knees. Purple loops and circles swooped across my chest, back, arms, and legs like a tiger's stripes. I glanced over my shoulder and saw some sort of odd wing design stretched out down my back. Definitely not any wards and sigils I had ever seen. If I turned on the vessel's pain receptors , the burning from the fresh tattoos let me know that the stripes continued onto my neck, circling my neck like purple collars, three of them in total with symbols etched between them. These 'collars' were what kept me trapped. When I tried to rise up out of my vessel, the symbols burned and the bands tattooed around my neck choked me back down into the vessel before I could escape.

It wasn't until my attention was caught by the thing they shoved into the arena on the other side across from me. It was humanoidish, an odd looking creature that loomed up like a giant centipede. It snapped its mandibles a couple times as eyes that seemed a bit too human landed on me. It seemed to ready itself, and then it charged right at me, a battle cry somehow erupting from its throat, and the crowd somehow grew louder.

I could only stare at it in horror as I realized that I had been thrown in with nothing but my fists.

 _I.. I think they expect me to fight._


	2. Chapter 2

(I don't own Supernatural or Voltron.)

The centipede thing was charging right at us, and it was gaining an impressive amount of speed for something its size.

I turned off the pain receptors and connected Lance to sight and hearing. Now he could see through my eyes and hear through my ears, but he wouldn't be able to control his own body. If I allowed him to do so, he would surely perish.

 ** _Would not._**

 _Shush._

I braced myself for impact, having given up dodge time in favor of turning off pain and allowing Lance to see and hear what was going on. The monster clearly hadn't expected me to hold my ground, for I felt a brush of uncertainty rise from it but it didn't slow.

 ** _WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? IF YOU KILL ME-_**

 _SHUSH!_

It slammed into me, snapping its mandibles around my midsection and tossing me into the air with a twist of its head. I spread my wings instinctively and flapped, my wingbeats frantic as my clipped wings proved to be of no help. I hit the side of the arena backfirst, the snap of my spine breaking echoing throughout the arena. Lance retreated further into the vessel, recoiling from the sound.

The crowd went silent at the sound of my spin breaking, all staring at me as I laid on the ground, limp. My vessel's legs refused to respond and I stayed motionless.

"Behold, the valiant Paladin!" a booming voice echoed across the silent arena, laugh echoing from the humanoid figure that had spoken from the fanciest seat. I assumed this was the man- er, alien- in charge.

 _Lotor._ Lance hissed, rising up with a wave of fear before burying himself deeper, disconnecting himself from hearing and sight in his urge to escape farther down..

Lotor's words brought quite a few whoops and laughs from the audience.

Gritting my teeth in anger, I reached forward and dug my hands into the dirt. Despite the fact that my legs would not listen, I dragged myself towards the monstrous centipede-alien who had broken my spine. It stared at me for a moment, and the wave of pity I felt from it only made me angrier. I didn't stop, dragging myself towards it with an expression of determination on my face. The audience had fallen into a stunned silence when they'd seen me haul my paralyzed form towards my opponent.

It scuttled over to me and paused when it was looming over me. The crowd snapped from their silence, shrieking and howling for blood.

A wicked grin spread on my face.

And then I opened my mouth and began a verse of '99 bottles of beer on the wall' using my true voice.

The audience still howled, but this time it was in pain. By 97 bottles, my opponent had been reduced to a writhing mass, shaking and spasming like a drowning larvae.

"Haggar!" I heard Lotor cry and I could see him from here with my enhanced sight, his own hands crushed against his head, blood oozing from between his fingers.

"Tranquilize it!" I heard her voice boom across the stadium.

Something sharp pierced into my back. I turned to glare in Lotor and Haggar's direction and increased my volume. Behind me, my opponent ceased moving and I could hear the instant its heart stopped.

Did Haggar honestly expect whatever they had just shot me with to actually act... actsh...

The ground suddenly got a lot closer as I collapsed. My vision blurred, my hearing sounded like I was delving underwater. And then everything was black.

* * *

I woke up in the cell again. Tired. And hungry. When was the last time I ate something sugary?

My Grace was still healing my spine, an injury that would have permanently put a human out of commission. It had healed enough that I was actually able to support myself on my feet, which was good considering the fact that the cell didn't allow me room to sit or lay down.

My mouth felt dry and my face ached. My lips tingled, numb, while the skin around my face burned. I blinked, unable to see anything in the darkness, and reached my hand up to my face.

I tried to scream, but my mouth refused to open; the very attempt left it burning worse than before.

I trembled, from both fear and rage. It seemed they had found out something about Loki after all.

* * *

It wasn't until the wall slid open and I stumbled out onto the arena once more that I discovered that they had taken more than my voice. I could see nothing, and when I reached up I could feel that some sort of smooth metal covered my eyes like a mask, like a blindfold that didn't go all the way around my head. My stomach did a horrified churn when I realized that they had screwed it into my face so that I couldn't simply pry it off. I would have noticed it sooner if I had been connected to the pain receptors. I did a double check to make sure Lance wasn't connected to pain. He wasn't.

I moved my head around as if that would help, my heartbeat quickening at the roar of the crowd echoing in my ears as they screamed.

 _Lance?_

I didn't receive an answer. My host had gone too deep for me to retrieve him, and the idea that he might follow in my last host's footsteps made my chest heavy.

 _LANCE! Laaaaaaannnnnnncccccceeeeeee! I WILL SHAVE YOUR HEAD BALD! LANCE WAKE UP!_

 **WAH!** I felt his mind rise up a little, his voice groggy and confused as it swirled around my head, **_wha? Whas goin on?_**

 _We are back in the arena._

 _ **Yeah, I can hear that much. Dude, give me my eyes back.**_

 _They screwed a piece of metal over our eyes. Neither of us can see._

 _ **S-Screwed? Metal screwed into my face? My beautiful face? Ooooh, I think I'm gonna be sick.**_

 _Should I not mention that they sewed our mouth shut?_

His mind retreated back towards the depths.

 _WAIT WAIT WAIT COME BACK._

I could feel him rise back up, much to my relief.

 ** _So, do you have a plan for us to not die, then? Because I really don't want to die._**

 _You'll be fine. But I need to disconnect you from the vessel's senses._

 ** _Haha._**

 _I'm serious. Things might get... nasty, kid. I don't want a repeat of yesterday._

I could sense that Lance was about to argue, but I sent a wave of comfort towards him and he grudgingly obliged, not struggling when I disconnected him from the vessel and left him anchored to nothing but my Grace. I couldn't spread some Grace out to get a read on my surroundings thanks to the purple stripes and symbols they'd tattooed onto me that kept all of me trapped within the confines of this vessel, so it was through hearing alone that I tried to figure out what was around me.

But the crowd was way too loud. I went to scowl, but stopped immediately at the pain from the metal that kept my mouth sewed shut. They must have gotten their hands on an angel blade and melted it down to use to wire my mouth shut. I didn't let myself think about just how they would have managed to get their hands on an angel blade.

I stretched my wings out before wrapping them around myself, so that anything coming at me would move through the wings that would be as intangible to them as air. But I would feel them phase through.

It didn't take long.

I felt the uncomfortable feeling of something moving through my wings behind me and I whipped around to face them with my fist already swinging. My fist smashed into metal.

A human would have broken the fragile bones in their hand, but my Grace lent me strength, and instead of broken bones it was my opponent who received damage. The metal gave way under my power and I heard my foe cry out as, suddenly, the breastplate that they thought would give them an advantage now kept their chest horribly compressed with how dented in I had left it.

With little space for their lungs to expand with the bent metal pressing into them, I could hear my foe's breathing over the roar of the crowd. I would have grinned if I could.

So they were humanoidish, then, from what I could tell, with lungs in the same place. The disturbance through my wings informed me that they were larger than me, but I had still managed to hit high enough to crush the breastplate against their lungs.

I darted away, wings outstretched so that anything I could run into would be noticed before I did so, and put some distance between my opponent and I.

 ** _Are we winning? I can't tell._**

 _I punched it._

 _ **Is it still coming?**_

 _Yes._

 ** _Well, obviously you didn't hit it hard enough._**

I rolled my eyes but quickly stopped at the feeling of my eyelashes brushing against the metal blindfold.

 _Okay, I might require some help._

 _ **You expect me to help... how exactly? You kinda stole my body, Gabriel.**_

 _I'm going to kind of kick you out._

 _ **...Come again?**_

 _Don't worry, I'll keep enough of your soul in here still so that you're still connected. It's an odd process, but you'll be able to kind of be my eyes in that you'll be able to see what's going on. You'll pretty much be a ghost. Except that you're still alive._

 _ **Your rambling is not assuring.**_

 _Ready?_

 _ **Can we maybe rethink this?**_

 _It might hurt._

 ** _Could you give me a couple minutes to come up with a better plan?_**

 _I'll basically sew your soul into my Grace to make sure you don't fade off. Then you'll float your little butt outside the vessel and let me know what's going on and where the monster is. That's my plan._

 _ **No. Absolutely not. Being stuck like this is like... like that book series Animorphs, where they describe what it's like having a yeerk in your head except for the fact that I DON'T EVEN GET TO SEE OR HEAR OR KNOW WHAT'S EVEN HAPPENING! Sewing my SOUL into your GRACE does not sound reversible! I'd rather make out with Keith!**_

 _Interesting example of something you'd rather do,_ I told him, _also interesting that such a specific thing is the first thing you came up with._

 _ **Shut up.**_

I let out a mental chuckle, _well, I guess you're not up for it?_

 ** _No._**

I almost let out a remark, but I had allowed myself to get distracted by my conversation with my host. Whatever I was fighting caught me unaware and something cold and slimy wrapped around my ankle and yanked. My face slammed into what felt like the dirt ground, and then I was flying through the air (and not in the good, look at me being a little bird way either) before getting a face full of dirt on the other side of the beast. Something dislodged in the back of my mouth, but I was forced to swallow it because I lacked the ability to spit it out. It wasn't until I tasted blood in my mouth that I realized what it must have been.

 _I think I just lost a tooth._

 _ **OH MY GOD**_

 _Don't worry, I think it was a wisdom tooth. Man, I could go for some ice cream or something right now, you now?_

 _ **How can you be thinking about food!? You just lost one of MY teeth! That's my body you're getting beat up in willy nilly! I have good looks to uphold! And you're ruining them!**_

 _I'm a Trickster, kid, and it's been a while since my last sugar fix._

 _ **Please please please don't break my body**_

 _I can't make any promises._

I reached down and grabbed onto the thing curled around my ankle. My hands nearly slid off it a couple times.

 _Ah, I think it has tentacles! Groooossss!_

 _ **Ew,** _Lance echoed my disgust.

I tightened my grip, rewarded with a scream as my hands tightened onto the monster's appendage until I heard a crack come from it.

I was released and my opponent retreated.

 _If I could only get that crowd to shut up! How am I supposed to hear this thing if all I hear is them!?_

 _ **You've got angely powers! Can't you make it so you can only hear the alien you're fighting?**_

 _Angely? Kid, you and I need to have a talk about angels-_

My mouth burned with agony when I instinctively cried out in shock as one large slimy tentacle thing smashed into my gut. I landed chestfirst, grateful that the wind that was just knocked out of my vessel didn't affect me. I couldn't sense the thing's emotions without being able to spread my Grace outside of my vessel, so I hadn't even known how close it had gotten.

Turns out it had some sort of claw spike somewhere because I most definitely felt the pressure of it stabbing that spike right down into my back.

Perfect.

I latched onto the tentacle with my Grace.

It placed some sort of large clawed foot onto my back and pulled on its tentacle, probably planning on dislodging the spike and stabbing me with it again to finish me off. I held onto it and, with my Grace holding a physical hold on it, I could feel it's confusion. It pulled again to no avail.

It then proved to be a spectacularly genius individual because its next course of action was to stab another tentacle through my back. I held onto that one too.

I could hear its heart from this close, beating quickly. It was getting scared.

It panicked even more when its tentacles began to freeze. My Grace may be trapped within my vessel, but my power as Loki most definitely was not. It screeched and cried, pulling and pulling. But I had frozen the tentacles solid, and the creature screamed when its tentacles snapped off.

 _Okay, whatever you do, don't connect to the senses. ANY of them._

 _ **What? Why?**_

 _I'm about to get us a weapon._

I dug my hands into my own chest, ripping and tearing through flesh and muscle and bone until I reached something that wasn't supposed to be there. I grabbed onto it, freezing my hands to it since my hands were too slick with my vessel's blood to get a good hold otherwise. The crowd had gone utterly silent. I heard a couple screams.

I pulled, throwing my hands away from myself. I ripped the tentacles straight through my body and out the other side.

The crowd was clearly screaming now. I heard screams of pain. Some of them were trampling each other in their haste to leave. I guess that this was too much blood and gore, even for them.

I dropped the tentacles at my feet and reached down, carefully gathering up my guts before they could hit the dirt and get dirty. I put them back where they were supposed to be, hands warm and slippery from the blood that covered them. I could feel my Grace seeping from the wound, and my Grace burned where it touched the air. Even with such a large opening in my vessel, I was trapped. But my Grace was healing the damage to my vessel already, and the gaping hole in my chest was already closing and fixing itself.

My opponent was the one putting distance between us this time. I could tell exactly where it was because its screams were the loudest whenever my vague stumbling around brought me near it.

I twirled the tentacles, finding the sound of the claw on the end of each one cutting through the air to be quite satisfying. The audience hadn't stopped screaming, but my opponent's heart was so loud and frantic that I could still hear it even over the noise all around me.

It screamed again and I struck out, whipping one of the tentacles in that direction like a spiked chain. It hit home with a thunk and a squelch and the creature howled in pain. I pulled sharply, yanking it out and striking with the second one. This one hit too. After I yanked this one out, I heard the creature collapse to the ground.

"Please," a voice begged, "please, Paladin. No more."

I froze. The tentacles made a thudding sound when they hit the dirt.

 _This thing... is sentient?_

 _ **Duh. Aliens, dude. What's going on?**_

I was horrified.

If this thing was sentient... was the thing I killed yesterday sentient? This whole time I thought that I had been fighting monsters. Not.. not animals or- or whatever these human sentience level things were. Aliens. Lance had called them aliens.

A low whine escaped through my sewn shut mouth. I dropped to my knees, unable to keep myself up anymore. I crawled forward slowly, hesitant, and the alien stiffened under my touch as I rested my hand on it. Once it felt my Grace flowing through it, fixing it, making its pain cease, it relaxed under my hand.

I let out another whine, hoping my apology got across as much as I could get it to.

I was a Trickster.

That much was true.

But the people I punished deserved their punishment. I knew now that this alien was no monster. It was a prisoner, just like me, forced to fight in this arena for the sick enjoyment of a twisted audience. He, she, they, whatever it was, didn't deserve this.

I could feel the shock emenating from the alien. From this close, with my Grace moving through it, I could sense it now. The wards did more than keep me trapped within this vessel; they had kept me from sensing that the beings I was fighting weren't monsters.

Haggar must have forced angels to fight before. She knew what to do to make us fight. The idea of my siblings being forced to fight to the death made me burn with rage. Instead of acting out on my anger, I finished healing my opponent.

Slowly, they got themselves to their feet. The new tentacles my Grace had regrown for it moved slowly through the dirt as it swayed.

"Mercy is not- not something you s-see much of here, Paladin," the alien told me. It paused for a moment and I waited. Waited for it to strike.

But slowly, so slowly, it turned. I could hear the sound of it walking away.

Something sharp pierced my back.

And then I knew no more.


	3. Chapter 3

(I don't own Voltron or Supernatural.)

I woke up in the dark again. Back in the cell. Mouth still sewn and eyes still covered. The dull ache of hunger that had lingered within me yesterday had turned into a sharp spike.

The metabolism of a Trickster. Such was the price I had paid to be Loki.

A groan eased through the metal threads that kept my mouth sewed shut.

 ** _Gabriel?_**

 _I'm here._

 _ **You went so quiet...**_

Right. Lance had been connected to nothing. He wouldn't have been affected by the tranquilizer. The thought of the young human, alone and afraid and no way to have any idea what was going on around and to him, was not a good thought. I sent a pulse of comfort and connected him to the senses, excluding pain, of course.

 _I'm sorry. Haggar must have had them tranq me when she realized I wasn't going to kill that alien._

 _ **Oh.**_

Lance went silent for a long moment.

 ** _What happened with the alien?_**

 _I healed him. And then I healed the wounds to myself. He, or she, whatever, they're fine._

I moved my hand, feeling along the bare skin of my chest. I located a jagged scar that ran like a lightning bolt across my vessel's chest Lance would not be pleased.

 ** _I'm bored._**

 _Same._

 _ **No. I mean, I am, like, so bored. I literally can't do anything.**_

 _Me neither._

 ** _You have my body, so I don't want to hear it._**

 _...um..._

 _I DIDN'T MEAN IT THAT WAY!_ Lance screeched, the sound echoing through my head, **_I mean-_**

 _I understand what you're trying to say, kid. But if I see somebody pretty enough, I can't make any promises._

 ** _..._**

A rumble of laughter echoed in my chest.

 _I'm kidding._

 _ **Oh, uh, good. Okay. Okay, um..**_

 _Trust me. If I had the choice, I would be back in my old vessel in an instant. You're a bit taller than I'm used to._

 _ **Right, but the wards mean you can't.**_

 _Exactly._

I heard it, then.

The wall was opening again.

Was that all my life would be now?

Endless battles? Endless fights?

Father, I am so hungry. So tired. Tired of this darkness. Tired of the laughter of dwarves that echoed in my ears every single time moving my mouth even the tiniest bit pulled painfully at the metal thread.

* * *

The audience was near silent. They weren't cheering, too eager to see what I would do this time, too focused on me.

My stomach churned.

 ** _Focus._**

 _I'm focusing, I'm focusing._

 ** _Yeah; on food._**

 _Tricksters should be eating truckloads of candy, not going days on end without it._

 ** _Look, I get it. You're hungry. But this might be the only chance we get at escaping. You don't need to breath or anything. You should be able to just fly right out even without a pod. We just have to get out of this ship._**

 _I know. I wasn't born yesterday. But Haggar clipped my wings, remember?_

 _ **We can still take a ship.**_

I stepped forward, and suddenly realized why the crowd was silent.

There was no crowd.

There was no arena.

Instead of dirt, my feet met with something cold. Metal. I was on the other side of the cell. I could hear the heartbeats, sense the essence of the celestial metal used for angel blades bouncing around in the power cores of the laser guns. Wow. Laser guns. Seemed like I was in a sci-fi movie. Or one of those action packed cartoon shows that used laser guns instead of guns because then they wouldn't be able to keep it as a kid show. I felt something close tightly around my wrists. Some sort of cuffs, my wrists yanking together as soon as they were latched on.

"Walk," a voice grunted, a clawed hand digging into my shoulder as I was shoved forward. The owner of said hand quickly withdrew, but I had already sensed his fear through the skin contact. He was quite good at keeping the waver from his voice, though I could tell he was terrified.

 _I wonder if they drew straws and these two got the short ones._

Lance laughed, **_do you think the two Galra peed themselves when they found out that they were the ones who had to get you?_**

My body shook as I laughed, an amused chuckle-like hum escaping me. I could hear the Galra shudder at my laugh.

"Walk," a harsher jab this time.

I walked forward, holding my head high; even trapped like this, even with my sight and voice taken, even dirty and chained, I was an Archangel. I would not give them the satisfaction of thinking they were in control. I walked smoothly, as if I was simply out for a stroll.

Lance chattered nervously in our head, but my mind wandered to thoughts of a dessert table, my mouth watering at the idea.

 ** _-and so we defeated Zarkon, right? Yeah, but- and I'm not sure what happened, but all of a sudden I wasn't in my Lion anymore. I think he was trying to get Shiro, but I kicked him with Blue and I think he accidentally took me instead- next thing you know, I wake up on a table covered in purple tattoos and it really really hurts -and, oh God, my mom is so going to kill me, she's going to see the tattoos and whip out la chancla- so the next thing I know after that, bing-bang, I'm possessed!_**

 _Mm-hm._

Encouraged by the belief I was paying attention, he kept on talking. He moved from complaining about being possessed and stuck on a Galra ship to talking about his family. I spared some attention to his talking, but Lance silenced when the butt of the gun of one of the two Galra escorting me was jammed into my back. I would have given them a dirty look, but my eyes were still covered.

"Stop."

There was a beep as some sort of panel was activated, then a hiss as what must be a door opened.

"Walk."

The smell of blood reached my nose. I could sense tattered Grace sticking to the walls.

 ** _I really, really, really don't want to go in there, Gabriel._**

 _I know, kid, but we don't have much of a choice._

I walked forward without hesitation, lifting my head even higher. I would not show fear. I was NOT afraid. I am Gabriel. I am an Archangel.

I will not be afraid.

I stepped over the Grace signature of a wing imprint burned into the ground.

 ** _I'm scared._**

 _Me too._

* * *

"Lead him over here."

 _Haggar,_ Lance tried to growl, but I could feel his fear.

I was shoved and so I took a few grudging steps forward.

"Connect the cuffs to the hook."

The two Galra yanked my wrists forward. The click and zap of the odd, binding current connecting to the 'hook' sounded like a death sentence.

"Unfurl your wings."

Right. She could see them. But the Galra couldn't.

I didn't even want to think about how bad my wings must look. I could feel the out of place feathers, the dirt sticking to them. I kept them pinned tightly against my back.

Some sort of electricity shot out of the hook and through my wrists. I spasmed, feeling like my Grace was being ripped apart. My wings fluttered behind me, twitching as I writhed.

 _GABRIEL!_ Lance screamed.

It ceased, leaving my wings drooping and I limp, held up only by the hook my wrists were connected to.

 _Lance?_

I got only a whimper in response. The current must have done more damage to him than it had done to my Grace.

"You're not the only one who will suffer should you refuse me," Haggar spoke, "unfurl your wings."

 _ **I'm good** , _Lance grunted, **_I'm okay, I'm good. You don't have to listen to her just for me._**

 _You're only a child,_ I told him. I spread my wings out. The room I was in was large enough that I managed to get my wings stretched out far enough that they were fully open, with the wingtips just barely brushing against the far sides of the room.

"Visible to all," she demanded.

 ** _Gabriel, you don't have to-_**

I let the uncomfortable warmth of visibility flow through my wings, ignoring the gasp of amazement that rose from the two Galra soldiers. I hoped she wouldn't demand for me to keep them visible for too long, considering that I knew the warmth would soon become an unbearable burning feeling.

"Amazing," Haggar let out a sigh of astonishment, and I flinched away when I felt her run her hand over the smooth feathers, "I could sense them, see them faintly, but now they are as clear as a Krepit's wings. And so.. so golden."

 _Ugh. It's been forever since anybody's touched my wings. It's weird. I don't like it. Especially when it's Haggar. Those are my wings. You don't just TOUCH an archangel's wings._

 ** _Can't say I feel ya. I don't have wings._**

I peeked quickly into some of his memories to help me find the best example that he would understand.

 _Imagine that you're just minding your own business when all of a sudden Zarkon grabs your ass._

Lance screamed and instantly retreated.

 _Wait, no! Come back!_

Lance just shrieked at me, **_I'm traumatized! Scarred!_**

Haggar scanned my wings carefully, making sure that the feathers required for flight were still trimmed enough to keep me grounded. Satisfied, she soon ordered for me to be returned to my cell.

I kept my head held high.

I am an Archangel, I am a Trickster, and they will regret what they have done.

* * *

 ** _I'm sick of the dark._**

I didn't respond, vessel trembling. My hands shook. Incoherent hums and growls the only thing I had to say, the only thing I could utter aloud through my sewn shut mouth.

 ** _How long has it been? Do you think they're worried about me?_**

I scratched at the wall in front of me, my wings cramped behind me, squashed in the tiny space.

 ** _I want to go home._**

I slammed my fists against the wall in front of me. My stomach felt like it was ripping itself apart. I wasn't used to hunger. Hungry. I need sugar, something, anything. My Trickster metabolism moved too fast. I wished I wasn't Trickster enough to need food.

 ** _Gabriel?_**

I blinked, eyelashes brushing against the metal that covered my eyes; but I'm used to it by now.

 ** _Are you still here? Can you link me back in? I can't hear. I can't see. I can't feel._**

I didn't respond.

 ** _Please, Gabriel! I'm going crazy in here! Talk to me! Link me in! Do anything!_**

I stayed silent, too focused on escaping and finding sugar to care. I could feel my Trickster half slipping away, and I clung to it, refusing to be left unwhole. It was the only power I had left, with my Grace locked within me. I had given up half of myself to become Loki, and I would not let my other half slip away.

Lance sobbed. Scared. Alone. Terrified. I could feel his emotions, but my muddled thoughts entwined them with my own.

 ** _Gabriel, I'm sick of the dark._**

When I didn't respond, Lance set to work himself. Slowly, he practiced, striving to be able to connect to the senses by himself.

* * *

Days blended together. We're days even passing? Everything melted together like crayons left on hot pavement. The more times my feet touched the ground of the arena, the more Trickster I was when I was finally taken out of it, growling and hissing.

Everything became confusing the longer time wore on, the longer the marks on my skin seeped deeper and deeper into my Grace.

Was I Lance, or was Lance the soul nestled in my Grace? We were separate, but we were one. There were times of coherency, where one of us managed to pull apart, rose to the surface, but everything melted and we, too, were melting together, burning.

Were we Lance or Gabriel?

Or was there only the Trickster?

The only thing that made sense was the hunger.

* * *

I didn't step out so much as collapsed out of the tiny cell. I flopped to the ground like a rag doll, too hungry and exhausted to move. But it wasn't dirt. The ground was cold.

Metal.

And yet I sensed no Galra.

"Be careful! That is a Paladin of Voltron that you are being so careless with!" somebody hissed to another and I felt warm arms scoop me up. I felt feathers and instinctively curled up so that I would be easier to hold. Memories of being cradled by my brothers as a fledgling surfaced in my mind and a hazy, incoherent part of my brain leaped to the conclusion that this must be one of my older brothers, come to finally save me and take me home, and treat me as family again.

"Are you sure this is the Blue Paladin?" a deep voice, somewhat garbled, asked, a rumble through the chest of the one who carried me, "I saw him in passing once, and this... this looks nothing like him."

The one who had yelled let out a sigh, "the Galra are not kind, my friend. Speaking of which, we must hurry. The other prisoners are rising up as well, but Gradvah only knows how much time we have before the Galra manage to gain back control. We must make our way, quickly, and meet back up with the others."

A grunt from the one who carried me, "I'll need you to watch my back, then, Radvar."

"Just don't drop the child, Griff."

A deep, guttural laugh, and I could feel the rumble of it through the Alien's scaly chest, "no Aline would ever be so careless."

 _ **Gabriel**..._ Lance sounded faded. Tired. But he fought to the surface, pulling apart, fighting apart from me even when the marks on our skin burned and tried to shove him back down into my Grace, into oneness. **_Gabriel..._**

I said nothing, and he sunk back down into the depths.

"And wherever do you two think you're going?" a smooth voice asked.

I recognized it, though at the time it had been a scream for Haggar, to make the pain of my voice stop.

Lotor.

Griff cursed, tightening his hold on me.

"Go," Radvar ordered, "you're fast, you can make it. I'll hold him off."

"If you think I'm leaving you, then you have new thing coming!"

 **It's 'another thing coming' not 'new thing coming'** Lance whined.

I struggled, writhing. The Aline alien was forced to put me down and I leaped to my feet the instant I was on the floor. I put myself in front of the two who had attempted to rescue me and motioned for them to go without me. Not leaving any room for argument, I leaped forward. Lotor obviously hadn't been expecting me to actually have the needed trajectory, because I took him to the ground.

"We must go!"

"We can't leave the Blue Paladin! We need Voltron!"

The two stayed stubbornly put, arguing tirelessly about whether they should run or stay. I thought I had made it clear that I wanted them to go, but mortals are stupid.

 **Heeeey.**

"Stronger than you look," Lotor grunted, and I could sense his amusement through the skin contact, "but this is not a fair fight, Paladin. How could I fight someone who cannot even see me?"

He thrust upwards, sending my lighter form flying.

"And yet I must. A pity, really. I'll have to convince Haggar to get that metal off your eyes and pit you against me in the arena so that we may have a fair fight."

 _Fair fight, my ass. For what you and your group have done, I'll kick your ass into next week._

 ** _Heck yeah! I'm going to have to remember that one!_**

I let the warmth go through my wings then bitchslapped Lotor with all three of the left side wings. There was no mercy. I felt his shock at the sight of my wings when my wings made contact, and then heard the thud his body made when it hit the wall; there was a second thud as his limp form hit the ground, but I could still hear his heartbeat. He was unconscious.

I stood on shaking feet and let the warmth leave my wings, sending them back to invisible and intangible to mortals.

"By Gradvah," Radvar let out a shaky breath and I felt Griff's warm arms scoop me back up.

"Radvar!"

"By Gradvah," Radvar repeated.

"Radvar, the path is clear! The Blue Paladin has granted us opportunity! Now, Radvar!"

It seemed to snap the other out of it. Together, with Griff holding me to his chest so tightly it might have been painful had I been human, the two raced down the halls.

"Radvar! Griff!" a new voice pierced the silence a couple minutes later, one whose voice practically dripped with relief, "you're still alive! When Kripleshto said that she saw Lotor heading the way you two had gone..."

"Blue Paladin knocked him out," Griff told the new voice and clacked his beak, "but Lotor may not be out for long. We must all go now, Rejeud, while we still can."

"You're right," Rejeud agreed, "but we must hurry. Here, I can take him."

Lance was doing the mental equivalent of bouncing off the walls. It made it hard to concentrate, so when I felt my vessel being handed over, I didn't quite know what was going on. I flung my hands out and clung to Griff, one of the only two allies that I was currently sure of.

Griff let out a chuckle and I calmed at the rumble vibrating through his chest, "it seems I shall bare the child a moment longer."

Satisfied that I had cemented my mode of transportation, I didn't even feel irritated when Griff resumed running.

Even with Lance practically throwing a party in my head, I was pretty out of it from being so hungry. I didn't even stir until something pulled at the metal on my face and I realized I had been moved from Griff's arms to some sort of cushy bed.

I let a growl rumble through my shut mouth, striking out, but whoever had touched the metal mask must have leaped away when they had noticed me tense up.

"Calm yourself, Paladin," a warm, feminine voice told me, a soft hand brushing gently against my forehead, wiping the dirty, sweat-soaked hair away from my face, "you are safe now, little one."

Lance softened immediately, but he wasn't the one in charge of the vessel. I flinched away from the touch immediately. When was the last time anybody had ever had any intention except to hurt me? Years? Centuries? Millennia? I waited for the moment that that benevolent gesture turned malicious, but it never came. Instead, the hand quickly retreated.

"The damage done may be unfixable," the voice sighed, "I had hoped for a different outcome, but it seems he has not come out of his ordeal unscathed in both mind and body. For the Galra to do such a thing to an innocent child.. the Galra truly are monsters"

"They fought him in the arena. Malleki says that the boy was a formidable, terrifying foe, even without his sight and left only with his weak human senses... he fought many times, but what he did to survive his second fight will be remembered within the minds of hundreds for centuries. I hear that he is even more well known now than the Champion, himself. The mere child who ripped out his guts just to survive, yet showed mercy towards his opponent even after going to such extreme measures."

 ** _YOU QUIZNAKING WHAT!?_**

 _Yes, mercy. I showed mercy. What do you take me for? A barbarian!?_

 _ **I WAS TALKING ABOUT RIPPING OUT MY GUTS!**_

 _I assure you that it was quite badass. And it doesn't matter anymore._

 _ **And why would that be!?**_

 _Because we're free._

Exhausted, I let myself sink.

Seperated for but a moment, we sunk back into one.


	4. Chapter 4

(I don't own Voltron or Supernatural. To be honest I never expected so much awesome feedback for this! You guys really made my day with your amazing reviews, and don't worry, I am continuing this (I was just busy working on this chapter) and I'm so glad that you all like this story as much as I like reading it!)

"Surely there is another way-"

"He won't stay still for another way!"

"Surely this will only make things worse?"

"What choice do we have!? Ajelnae needs to make sure that the boy is alright!"

I hissed and growled, the only sounds of discontent I could make, writhing, but I was barely lucid enough to put up much of a fight towards the hands holding me down.

"Hurry, then," a deep voice grunted somewhere above me, sounding oddly familiar but I couldn't place the voice, "the little creature is stronger than he seems. I do not need to be holding him down to remember that."

Hands pressed against my stomach, prodding the vulnerable skin. I struggled harder, and the deep voiced one grunted as he strained to compensate.

"Poor boy's stomach has already started eating itself. He doesn't seem to have much fat to begin with. If we can't get his mouth open or find some way to give him nutrients, his body will quickly burn through the fat reserves and move on to important organs. I'm surprised it isn't worse," I recognized the feminine voice of the one who had petted my hair earlier; the searching hands traveled up to the scar, "I can sense that he seems to suffer no further from his ordeal in the arena, as it seems everything is back where it should be. The Druids must have fixed him back up after he gutted himself."

"What about the markings they covered him with? Can you read them? Do you know their meaning?" a familiar voice (Radvar?) asked.

"I have never seen them before. Brands, perhaps, as one would brand their cattle," I felt her rage through the skin contact and I flinched away. Well, tried to.

"Keep the anger from your voice, Ajelnae. There is naught we can do now, and your tones scares the child," Radvar spoke, "what about his mouth and eyes?"

Her hand probed around my mouth and I flinched away, a choked gasp echoing from me at the burn of the area being touched. I could hear dwarves. Dwarves! They were all around me, threading their needle!

"No metal that I have ever seen," Ajelnae said, "and the mask... I fear that these screws may go into his skull. Unscrewing it might cause further damage."

"So we shall do nothing while a hatchling suffers!?"

"Calm yourself, Griff," I heard Radvar's voice, "perhaps his team will have a way. Has there been any success in getting our distress beacon to the Paladins?"

"No response," the deep voice of the one holding me down growled, "Kripleshto fears we may even be in an entirely different system, and Rejeud says that the pod we stole does not have wormhole capability. It was never meant to hold this many in the first place. We'll have to find a planet to land on soon."

"We can't do that," Radvar said, "we are escaped prisoners of the Galra in the heart of Galra territory with a Paladin of Voltron. To land would be suicide. I have faith in Rejeud's mechanical skills, Kripleshto's piloting, and Ajelnae's healing capabilities. And do not forget that Malleki, Griff, and I are strong and capable fighters. We WILL make it to the Paladins. We owe it to the prisoners, the friends, who didn't survive the escape..."

Radvar's speech seemed to have boosted their morale, for I could sense hope through the hands holding me down.

"We'll just have to make him as comfortable as we can, but we must go quickly. Even if there were provisions on this ship, the Blue Paladin cannot eat in this state," Ajelnae said, and she let me be, "you can let him up, now, Malleki. I am finished."

The hands released me and I rolled off the bed thing, not caring how comfortable it was. I escaped to the first corner I ran into, curling up and giving my most menacing growl, wishing I could bare my teeth at them. I cut off as the ache in my stomach began to increase.

 ** _Gabriel! We're okay now!_**

Gabriel? The voice in my head didn't make sense.

There was no Gabriel here.

Only a hungry, so so hungry, starving Trickster.

Lance sunk back down, the desperation of the Trickster stronger than his mortal self and my weakened Grace.

And then we were back to being one, memories mashed to the point that neither could tell which ones belonged to who anymore.

* * *

"Calm now, Paladin" Griff grunted, "why must hatchlings always be so difficult?"

"You're scaring him, you brute!"

"He's growling like a Ripleshten getting a bath! Are all humans absolutely feral little reklabas!? How am I supposed to feed him if he won't even stay still long enough for you to find a gap to stick the tube into his mouth!?"

"Language around a child!" I heard a smack and Griff let out an indignant squawk, "how would you like it if I called you a reklabas!? The poor thing is terrified and starving! Many species lose all thought when faced with starvation! It isn't the little one's fault!"

Griff merely grumbled in response, but through his hands on my skin I could feel his shame at having snapped.

"Hold his head still, Griff!"

Taloned hands dug gently into my head, careful not to hurt me, and stilled it.

"It's sewed too neatly together, there's no- wait! If I can only..."

Hands strained to hold two threads apart enough to slip something into my mouth; I strained, struggling to growl around the straw-like device now in my mouth. I stilled instantly when something sweet pooled into my mouth through the straw and my protests immediately ceased. Sugary water. Food.

"There we go," Ajelnae cooed, running her hand through my hair as I strained to make my throat swallow the food, "it's alright. There we go, little one, there we go."

"Do you think the Galra fed him at all?"

Ajelnae let the silence answer for her, and the silence lingered for a moment before she chased it away with her voice. I continued eating, focused only on easing the pain in my stomach.

"Thank you..."

Griff sounded surprised when he answered her, "for what? Any other could have helped keep the child still so you could get the food into him."

"For talking Kripleshto into stopping at that planet long enough to get provisions. I know what a risk it was, only a couple Vargas after having escaped."

Griff clacked his beak and then answered, "the Blue Paladin may not have survived much longer without sustenance. Even she would have seen that."

"But it wasn't them who pointed that out, who talked them into stopping... I am grateful."

I chomped on the straw when the food ceased coming through and let out a menacing growl. Hello! Trickster here! I'm hungry!

"Whoops, accidentally took the tube out of the water," Griff muttered and after a moment the food started back up, "will this even be enough to help? Surely he needs more than Iveline water."

"We have no way of feeding him solids," Ajelnae said, "we must only hope that this might bring him back to coherency. When I scanned his mind... I can only hope he isn't past the point of being helped. His brainwaves were an absolute mess."

"Well, he certainly acts like he's lost it."

Another smack from Ajelnae and Griff let out an exasperated screech.

"Stop doing that!"

* * *

Coherency came back slowly. The Trickster faded to the edges of our mind, not starving but still hungry. Sugary water wasn't enough, but it would do.

Even then, we knew we were still a mess. We missed hearing each other, felt more alone than we had in the small, dark cell, even though we were, in reality, less alone than we had been before. The ship was small, but we hardly noticed. It was larger than our cell.

We missed being separate.

* * *

"Stop that."

We growled.

"Don't you growl at me, little one. I don't care if you can't talk, you could still use manners."

We let out a snort through our nose and went back to clawing at the marks on our skin. If we could only break one, maybe my Grace could leak out the way it was supposed to and I would be able to better sense my surroundings and finally sense the emotions of the ones around me.

Me? I? We shook our head, grasping helplessly at the words before they slipped from our grasp.

"Stop!" Ajelnae said, tone sharper this time, "you're hurting yourself!"

"If the Galra had branded me I would want it gone too," I recognized Malleki's voice, "he had them when I fought him, too."

"Doesn't give him a right to- will you stop!"

We crunched up our nose but ceased digging our hands into our skin. It was a futile effort anyways. We were stuck like this. Together. Trapped. Always trapped. Even out of that room, we were still squished into this too small space. Without Grace, without flight, without sight, without a voice. We were almost helpless. We hated it.

"He's probably bored, now that he's got some food in him," Malleki said, sounding bored himself, "no fight for his life here. No need to spend all his time afraid. We've all been cooped up in this ship for far too long. Three quintants is much too long for me to be stuck in this tiny little thing. There's no privacy!"

"Well then why don't you play a game or something with him! Dear Wettleblieve, you act more like a child than actual children!"

"Ouch. Felt that in all three of my hearts."

Ajelnae huffed and ignored him.

"Hey." The voice came from right in front of us.

We jumped, falling off the makeshift bed (a couple of blankets bundled up on the floor, but it was a luxury compared to the dark cell we had been living in where we could only stand) that we have refused to get off of since being given the blankets.

"Malleki!"

"I didn't mean to!" Malleki huffed, "well, what will it be, Monster of the arena? Wanna come? It'll be fun~"

Our hand reached up, fingers ghosting over the metal strings tying shut our mouth. Our appearance was important, wasn't it? No, it is not important. Of course it was important.

No, we will not let ourselves be seen like this.

We turned our back to him and pulled a blanket over our shoulders, facing where we figured the corner might be. We moved our hand forward to check, and shifted again when our hand touched only air until we found the corner.

"What if.. what if I threw in an Ivebox?"

We poked our head out of the blanket, turning our face towards where his voice was coming from.

"That's right," his voice held an edge of amusement, "Iveline water. All to yourself. With a little straw."

We let out a hum, thinking it over. Finally we shoved the blanket off and got shakily to our feet.

"I knew you would see reason," Malleki said smugly, "perhaps we could even find a healer that might be able to help you with that blind and those stitches."

"Or you could end up risking our entire safety here," Ajelnae argued, "just stay on the ship. I told you to play a game with the boy, not take the poor thing out and about to be gawked at."

We let out a grunt, holding out my hand for the Ivebox. Sugar, dummy. Hand it over. You promised it to us.

"Ugh," Malleki growled, and we heard a thunk as he let his back fall against a wall, "well, it is probably bright on this planet anyways."

We cleared our throat and with a little concentration we made our stomach let out a growl.

"Aw, you hungry again, little one?" Ajelnae cooed, and we tried not to be irritated.

A jug found its way into our hand and the moment we found the straw we struggled to get it into our mouth and past the stitches sewing it shut. Ajelnae had to help us, like she always did, and soon enough we were happily chugging away on the sugary drink.

* * *

I was jolted awake by the sound of an explosion outside that rocked the entire ship. Tears pooled at the corners of my eyes when I was thrown sideways and landed rather harshly on one of my wings and instinctively tried to cry out, the angel blade metal sewed into my mouth burning as it pulled at my mouth. I pulled myself up, clinging to the first nailed down object I could find, struggling to stay upright (in a spaceship, not too many things aren't nailed down somehow). I rubbed my aching head, wondering when I had fallen asleep, but another explosion rocked the little spaceship and I fell back down into my bed of blankets. Right. I had gotten bored. Went to sleep.

 **What...** for a moment we went back to being us, but Lance fought desperately against the spell combining his soul and my Grace into one being, managing a few more moments of separateness. **The ship... attacked... being.**

 _Ugh,_ I pulled myself back up, hating how cramped my wings were in the ship, not enough space to adequately stretch them out to keep me balanced, _y-yeah. S- I- yeah._

 **Others... get to...**

We could hear voices up ahead.

We.

The spell won out, too ingrained for us to put up much of a fight. We focused our hearing on the voices coming from the cockpit.

"They have to be tracking us through Haggar's monster," a gravely voice croaked, and there was a sound like rock scraping against the ground as the alien moved, "we must get rid of it while we can. We have found proof that Voltron is still capable of forming. They do not need it."

"We are not leaving him behind," Malleki growled, his correction saturating the air with its heavy threat, "I owe him a life debt. He could have killed me, or left me to die, but he healed me even after all I had done to end his life in the arena. Scared the hell outta me, sure, but he didn't kill me. So no, we are not leaving him, Kripleshto."

"And how did it heal you!? With whatever that hag Haggar has done to it! That's how!" Kripleshto's voice was harsh, like rock scraping against rock to make noises that sounded like words, "we cannot trust it! I demanded you leave it, but Griff and Radvar just had to go back for that.. that thing!"

There was a hiss, like a drop of cold water landing in boiling fry grease, and a sound like a rock hitting metal.

"That THING is one of the few brave enough to stand up to Zarkon," we recognized Griff's voice, "so shut your mouth, before I shut it for you!"

We stumbled forward, calming when our hands ran into soft feathers. Griff stiffened but turned, rage dissipating as we clung to him in the hopes of getting a read on the situation through his emotions.

"Look at what they have done to this child, Kripleshto," he said, feathers brushing against our face, "you would turn him back to those capable of doing this to a mere hatchling?"

The sound of rock dragging across metal reached our ears again as Kripleshto drew near, and warmth washed over our face as if we were standing in front of a furnace.

Kripleshto let out a grunt, another blast of hot air washing over our face that we realized must be its breath, and the alien's raggedy voice hurt our enhanced ears now that it was so close, "then put it out of its misery. If you care so much about it, then why cause it to suffer longer than it must?"

We let go of Griff and backed away, fearing what emotions we may sense from him. We didn't want to know.

They wouldn't be able to kill us. Not without an Archangel blade. All they would accomplish would be hurting us.

But they didn't know that.

"There is hope, still, Kripleshto," we heard Radvar say, "or would you like to be the one to tell Voltron that you killed their friend to save your own cowardly glute?"

"This is a great conversation and all, really," Malleki growled out as another explosion rocked the ship, "but have you all forgotten the GALRA FLEET closing in on us!?"

Silence.

"Quiznak," Kripleshto grunted, the sound of rock against metal filling the cockpit as the alien returned its attention to the matter at hand, "send word to Rejeud to get that engine running overtime. I just need to get us into alliance territory. We're too close to stop now. After that.. after that we figure out what we do with Haggar's monster."

"We get him to Voltron," Griff said, "in one piece."

"Unless we all die first," Kripleshto told him.

We retreated away from the conversation, back to the safety of our pile of blankets, fearing the outcome that may be. A memory skimmed through our mind, of being small and young and finding safety surrounded by my siblings, safe in their wings that they cuddled me with. It was familiar, but at the same time sickeningly unknown.

We ignored both feelings and pulled the blankets over our head.

We hummed under our breath, a lullaby from a mother we had always and never known.


	5. Chapter 5

(I don't own Voltron or Supernatural. Phew, this story (which I am so happy to see you all like, I can't even tell you guys how much your awesome reviews mean to me!). But I was working on this the other day and got off the bus that I was waiting on. But it was colder than I thought it would be, so I went back and got back on this bus. But instead of saying, "it was colder than I thought it was outside, so I changed my mind, can you let me back on?" I said "it was colder than we thought it was outside, so we changed our mind, can you let us back on?" My goodness, the look the bus driver gave me... -_-')

Rejeud got the engine into overtime, all right, and from what we could make out, Kripleshto had lost the Galra after she zipped the ship through an asteroid belt. Unfortunately, the Galra had already gotten in some good hits on our ship and the engine couldn't keep up.

If there was anything everybody in the ship agreed on, it was that being stuck in a dead ship floating through space sucked.

We found enjoyment in ticking off Kripleshto to the best of our ability. It helped pass the time.

From what we could tell, Kripleshto was a rocky skinned creature with two front legs she used to drag herself around. We had to make sure to stay near the top of her, though, for she had a molten core that kept her alive but made her underbelly hotter than touching a hot stove. We found it amusing to 'accidentally' stand in her way, since it was difficult for her to turn herself around. We spent most of our time playing this game.

"It does this on purpose!" Kripleshto snapped. We were surprised it took so long for her to lose her temper. We'd been trapped for a whole week floating through space and I spent most of my time playing In-The-Way.

"He can't see," Griff said casually, "how would he do it on purpose?"

We let out a hum of agreement.

"Oh, so it is just coincidence!?" Kripleshto's voice sounded even rockier than usual as her voice rose, to the point that the noises she made didn't quite make their way into words.

"Calm yourself, Kripleshto," we heard the soft sound of Ajelnae's near silent footsteps near us and felt fur brush against our bare skin as she scooped us up and lifted us out of Kripleshto's way despite our protests, "how you can you stay mad at him? Humans are so adorable!"

We made a noise that sounded like the chirp a cat makes when it's happy. See, Kripleshto? We're perfectly innocent little angels! We let out a rumble of amusement from deep in our chest, amused by our own joke.

Ajelnae put us down and we tilted our head, patiently waiting for Kriplestho to start moving so we could go back to being in her way.

"At least he doesn't look like a skeleton anymore," Ajelnae said, and we squeaked and retreated when she poked us in our bare stomach, "humans recover faster than I expected."

"Surely he's still too scrawny?" Radvar joined the conversation, "Dwarffen Young have more meat on their bones than the Blue Paladin."

"He's lean," Malleki said, "like my species. Much more efficient."

"Humans have dull coloring, don't you think?" Ajelnae asked, "is it for camouflage? Malleki, the Slends have dark coloring to blend in with the cave systems you live in on the Dark Planet, right? Do you think Earth is a mostly rocky planet?"

"I've seen Earth, from a distance," Malleki said, "colorful. Beautiful."

"Really?"

"They say it shares a lot with my planet, Keplar," Griff said, claws clicking across the floor but we heard the telltale sound of rock scraping across metal and hurried to get in Kripleshto's way, "from what we've heard, their fauna were quite simpler to Aline ancestors before Earth went through another mass extinction and had mammals rise to the top. It took the Greys a thousand years to convince us that Earth existed. We though it was a simple tall tale! Ha!"

We planted ourselves right in Kripleshto's way, trying our best to appear innocent and hoping we were succeeding.

Kripleshto grumbled quietly and started turning herself around about as quickly as a tortoise doing the same thing. Five minutes later, we let her get a couple inches before moving back into her path.

"How unfortunate that the humans weren't cleared off in a mass extinction," Kripleshto croaked, "perhaps our ship would be in better condition."

"And perhaps Zarkon would still have an iron grip on the universe, and would take over all the planets that he hasn't gotten to yet," Malleki pointed out.

"Ship!"

"Exactly, we wouldn't even have a ship at all. We'd probably still-"

"No, you idiots!" Kripleshto growled, moving with more speed than we thought she was capable of, and we barely got out of her way in time as she barreled forward to the cockpit, "there's a ship!"

Ship? Playing In-The-Way was getting pretty boring, and the sooner we were off this ship, the sooner we could find our way back to Earth- no. The thought was shoved aside. We can't go back to Earth. We have a job to do. A lion to pilot. Lion? No. We don't pilot a lion. We need to get to Earth and find a way- no, we'll have to...

We growled, digging our hands into our scalp as we shoved the idea away. Too much disagreement within us. What did it matter if we stayed? Yes. We would stay in space. Agreement. Good.

And we will kill Haggar. No. Can't kill Haggar, we are not a murderer- of course, we are?

We whined and returned to our blanket bed.

"It is a Blade of Marmora ship! We are saved!" Rejeud cheered, "Kripleshto, please tell me we can get their attention!"

"I think we already have it," Kripleshto croaked, "the only thing left is to pray that they do not fire on us simply for being in a Galra scouter"

"A beat up Galra scouter," Malleki said, sounding enthusiastic, "yes, they will assist us! Rejeud, can you help Kripleshto get a connection?"

"Can a Frellpick fly?" Rejeud asked, and we hoped the answer was yes as none of our parts had ever known such a thing as a Frellpick. From the sound of Rejeud messing with the console, we figured that the answer was yes.

There was a sound like static, and then a voice filled our small ship. It didn't sound very happy.

"What is the meaning of this?"

We heard Ajelnae's soft footfalls as she hurried towards the console, almost silent even to our enhanced ears.

"We are escaped prisoners of the Galra, seeking safety!" Ajelnae's told the one that had been contacted, "please! The ship we stole from the Galra is dead, and we are trapped in space!"

"We have the Blue Paladin with us!" Kripleshto chimed in, as if this one fact made all the difference.

"The Blue Paladin?" the voice questioned, sounding shocked before delving into doubt, "prove it."

"Paladin!" there came the unmistakable sound of Kripleshto turning herself around, "Paladin, come here!"

We thought over the idea of flipping her off. Couldn't she see that we were perfectly happy chilling in our corner?

"Come here, little one," Ajelnae urged, "it's alright."

We growled under our breath but pulled ourselves to our feet. We moved towards where Ajelnae's voice had come from, following the soft sounds of what we figured to be a fluffy tail swishing softly against the ground that we were pretty certain was Ajelnae's.

"The Blue Paladin," Kripleshto croaked out proudly, "just as we claimed."

There was a moment of silence for an uncomfortably long time, pierced only by frantic whispering on the other end of the line. We had no idea what was going on, unnervement rising until finally the voice spoke again, and the tension left our wings as we felt Ajelnae's relief flood through her through the hand she had on our shoulder.

"We'll bring your ship into the landing bay," the voice told us, "don't try anything. You! Yes, you, Ratchet! Contact Kolivan! He'll want to know that we have found the missing Paladin!"

There was a click, as if the transmission had been ended. By the silence that replaced what had been whispering, we guessed it had.

"We're saved," Radvar breathed it out like the very words were a miracle, "by Gradvah, we're going to be okay. We're going to get to go home."

"Don't get all sentimental on us, yet, old friend," Griff laughed, "nothing is certain yet."

* * *

We clung to Griff, pressed against his feathers. It made us feel safe, reminded us of the warm wings of brothers and of the warm arms of a mother, two unique feelings that were similar all the same. One of the strangers tried to move us from Griff only once, but we snarled and growled so much like a feral animal that they instantly retreated and let us be.

"Doctor?" Ajelnae asked the very moment things had calmed down a little, "please, do you have a doctor on board?"

"Are we sure this is the Blue Paladin?" we heard an unfamiliar voice question.

We growled and turned our head to face the direction the voice had come from.

"Ruxmas seems to think so," another answered, "it doesn't look like the Galra were very kind in their treatment of him."

"Are they ever?"

Shame rose up in us and our wings pulled in closer. We knew we must look horrible, horrible enough that all of us were unified in hating how miserable and helpless we probably seemed to be. We wished we could at least bare our teeth, but we could do nothing but tighten our grip on Griff just a little more.

Griff chirped out something in a language we had never heard before and patted our arm in comfort. We shifted closer, pressing our side against the scales that covered his side and stomach.

"We have a medic who could take a look at him," one of the rebels spoke, "I can take him to the medic, but we don't have a doctor. The Paladins should be able to take care of their own when they arrive. I trust that Commander Ruxmas is contacting them as we speak. But this isn't where you must part paths with the Blue Paladin, for Commander Ruxmas is a very cautious man, you must understand, and so the rest of you will stay in confined quarters together. At least until we can be sure that your claims of being escaped Galra prisoners are true."

"Thank you," Ajelnae responded, "and yes, I think that would be a good idea, and I believe we all understand your hesitance. I took a look at him, but I am not used to working with humanoids."

"Go on, Paladin," Griff urged, gently prying our hand off of his arm, "I.. I suppose that this is where we part ways. Perhaps one day we will meet again, yes?"

"Gradvah willing," Radvar said.

Griff felt sad, we could tell through the hand holding onto our wrist. We let out an irritated growl and reached for his arm again.

"This way, Blue Paladin," the voice of the one who had suggested the medic spoke, and a hand tapped my shoulder, "I will lead you to the medic, and then we can await the arrival of your team."

But...but this was our team! They had come for me, when no other had! Not Luci, not Mikey, not Ralph, not.. not Dad. We dug our hands into our arms, nails biting in. No, no, no. They had helped. They were safe.

It was difficult for us to think sometimes, but the fact that we were safe with them was something that was clear in our mind. They didn't hurt.

We stretched our hand out, reaching, but our fingers brushed nothing but air.

NONONONONONO

The stranger screamed when we grabbed onto his wrist and bent it back until it snapped; we could feel his shock and pain, but we ignored it as we kicked out towards where his knee should be if he was humanoid. He went down hard, and now that he wasn't in our way, we took off as fast as our feet could take us.

Unfortunately, we didn't account for the fact that we were not familiar with these surroundings.

Instead of taking off towards where the others had gone, we ran into a wall at top speed and delivered ourselves into the dark peace of unconsciousness.


	6. Chapter 6

(I don't own Voltron or Supernatural.)

We happily kicked our feet on the table, humming 'Heat of the Moment' as Griff grumbled beside us. It was kind of hard to get some of the higher pitches, since we couldn't open our mouth, but we made do.

"I should have argued against it," Ajelnae's voice came in frantic bursts across the room, her voice a whisper but our ears too good not to hear, "I'm so sorry, none of us knew he would act like that!"

"Quizix will see what she can do," the voice of one of the rebels responded, "Rax will be okay, once the pod is done healing the damage the Blue Paladin inflicted."

"Oh, but he will be alright?"

"It might take a few quintants; the Blue Paladin busted Rax's kneecap. The damage to the wrist bones will definetly take more than a few vargas. Commander Ruxmas has decided that it might be.. better... if perhaps some of you made sure to stay near him. It seems to keep him..."

They paused, as if trying to decide what word to use.

"Calm?" Ajelnae offered.

"I- ah, I was thinking civilized, but sure, let us go with calm."

"So this is the cause of all the chaos going on, hm?" something poked us and we jumped, nearly falling off the table, "heard he knocked Rax out and then knocked himself out."

"Unfortunately," Griff sighed, "you the medic we heard about?"

"One and only," there was a sound like many sharp feet moving, but the hands that touched our face and gently moved our head for the being to get a better look felt oddly human, "most are surprised to see an Arachne in the healing field."

"Well-"

"It's fine," the Arachne said dismissively, "everyone was surprised. Maybe even as surprised as I was to find an Aline outside of Keplar. Your kind do not usually travel into space, like the Arachne did. Now, this is one of the famous Paladins of Voltron, yes?"

"Yes."

"Let's get a look at that little noggin, then," the Arachne said, "well, this nose isn't broke. Bloody from getting slammed into a wall, but not broken. Lucky little thing."

We huffed and lifted up a hand to prod at our tender nose.

"Can't look at the eyes for concussion signs," the Arachne tapped on the metal piece that covered our eyes, "but he seems alright as far as I can tell for now."

"You can't do anything about the.. can you do anything?"

"Hmm," the Arachne hesitated, "this metal... I've never seen anything like it, but this needlework is spectacular."

"But can you get it off?" Griff growled, clacking his beak in warning, "or are you going to try and figure out how to sew a mouth shut like that yourself?"

"Calm yourself, Aline," the Arachne said, "I was just saying-"

"Just because we are not on our home planet does not mean the rivalry between our species will keep me from keeping an eye on you."

"Petty, really," the Arachne responded, but Griff didn't like him so we, by extension, didn't like him either. Angels of a feather, flock together. And we were Archangel, we knew that much. We growled at the medic when we felt his hands touch our face again, but silenced ourselves when Griff clacked his beak and patted a comforting clawed hand on our shoulder.

"Your top half resembles his," Griff said, "so you should be able to understand better than Ajelnae. So understand how to help the hatchling."

"Hmm," the Arachne hummed out, and we shivered as he ran a finger along the scar that spread out over our chest, "what happened here?"

A flash of some sort of dark feeling flashed through Griff but it was replaced with worry when we tensed up.

"That..." Griff hesitated, "that happened in the Arena."

"They fought him?"

"Blind and silent. Yes."

"And.. he survived?" we could feel only amazement through the hands on our face from the Arachne medic, "the odds of such a thing..."

"He did more than survive," Griff said, "he won. Every single fight they threw him into."

We let out a pleased hum, happy for the praise. We weren't used to praise; we liked it. It felt nice. Made us feel... good enough. Good enough for what?

"How did this scar come about, though? It goes right over the marks tattooed into his skin, so it had to have happened after he received the marks..."

"He.. was gutted."

"And lived!? They must have gotten him out quickly!"

"He finished the fight. Then the druids dragged him off to heal him."

"Spectacular! I have heard tales from prisoners we've rescued, about the accomplishments of the Champion! And now this from a different human? Humans are an amazingly resilient race! Why, it reminds me of a couple of rumors I've been hearing lately, about the witch Haggar's new champion-"

"Yes, well, he acts more feral than anything," Griff quickly changed the topic, "so is there anything you can help with?"

The Arachne let out a grunt and went back to checking me.

Human. We weren't. We were.

What are we?

"And these tattoos. What is their meaning?"

"Don't know."

"Maybe Nuroo might know," the Arachne murmured, more to himself than anything. It did not escape our ears, or Griff's.

"Nuroo?"

"He was.. well, he is a Druid."

"What!?" Griff squawked out the words and his feathers puffed up; we tensed up and listened for whatever the threat must be as we spread our wings out in an instinctual attempt to make ourselves look bigger, though nobody here could see our wings unless we made our wings visible, a growl already rumbling in our throat.

"Shush!" the Arachne growled, "calm the Paladin before he hurts somebody!"

Shame settled in the Aline, but he quickly patted my head, "it's okay, hatchling, I did not mean to startle you."

We relaxed only slightly. Where was the threat?

"Nuroo is a spy for the Blade of Marmora," the Arachne clarified, "can you make sure he doesn't freak out when I turn this on? I want to get a scan on his brain to see if he has a concussion from running into the wall-" there was a beep and something cold pressed against our forehead, but Griff didn't seem alarmed so we didn't become alarmed either- "-Yes, thank you. Nuroo isn't a master druid, but he is making his way through the ranks. If we can get word to him to look into anything involving what the Galra were doing with the Blue Paladin... Pala... Pa..."

"Paladin?" Griff offered.

The Arachne did not answer. There was a clatter and we jumped, turning our head to face the direction the clatter had originated from. The medic had dropped something. Why?

"Ettle!" there was a clatter, the sound of many feet clicking quickly across the room, like the sound of a spider if you listen closely to it run. What was the Arachne doing? "Ettle! Run to Commander Ruxmas as quickly as you can and tell him to set course for the nearest hospital at the nearest modernized planet! Immediately!"

"But Voltron-"

"Now!" the Arachne medic hissed.

The rebel that had been speaking to Ajelnae took off so quickly that we could still hear their feet pounding against the ground halfway down the hall.

"Has he shown any signs of pain?" the Arachne questioned, and we growled in complaint as he turned our head this way and that, digging his fingers in in various places before moving and examining another part of our head, "you said he acts feral?"

"What's- what's going on?" Griff scratched his talons into the floor, shifting from foot to foot, "what's wrong?"

The Arachne's hand brushed our mouth and we hissed, recoiling away. He quickly steadied my head and ran his hands across the skin that the stitching went through and we shrieked as our mouth burned, the pain increasing by our attempt at opening our mouth and ending up pulling at the stitches. He let go immediately and we retreated into the first corner we found, curled up and growling in his direction, trembling and pulling our wings in as close as we could.

"How long did the Galra have his mouth stitched shut and the metal screwed into his head?"

"I- none of us know exactly how long-" Griff stammered.

"At least several months, we all assume maybe the majority of his time held captive by the Galra," Ajelnae said, fear in her voice, "why? Is- is something wrong?"

The medic hesitated, and we could feel their stare, making our skin itch under the scrutiny. His voice lowered into a hush, and we heard the scuff of feet as Ajelnae and Griff drew closer to hear his words. Our enhanced hearing easily picked up the words we weren't supposed to hear.

"The metal seems to be... poisonous to his human body. It's- it seems to be..." the medic paused, his many feet scuffling against the ground as he shifted his balance nervously, "I cannot be sure, but it is most definitely detrimental to him to have that metal, whatever that metal is, in his body. I believe any of the metal that has corroded down might also be leaking into his brain, and poisoning him, which might explain his behavior. You said they fought him? Perhaps that was what they wanted. A new champion, too delirious and manipulated to be anything but.. bloodthirsty."

We felt their eyes turn to us, but our hand had brushed against something about a minute ago that the Trickster part of us desperately hoped was candy and we were too busy trying to squeeze ourselves under the medic's desk to retrieve the hopefully candy to care that we were being stared at.

"Ah, yes," Griff said sarcastically, and we could practically hear the medic bristle, "I can see the bloodthirsty killer now."

"Iveline water seems to calm him down?" Ajelnae offered, "will-"

"I don't have the necessary equipment to get the metal out here," the medic interrupted Ajelnae, apparently deciding not to argue with Griff and not wanting to wait to get out his words, "so we'll have to hope the hospital Commander Ruxmas finds has what is needed."

Our hand closed around the object we hoped was candy and we quickly pulled it out, running our fingers over it. Nope. Some sort of metal contraption thingy. We felt the cold surface and threw it over our shoulder dismissively. That scanner thing. Lame.

We heard the sound of the door sliding open and the voice of the rebel the medic had sent off (Ettle, had the alien been called?) broke the conversation, "Zethe? Commander Ruxmas says we will be there shortly. We had to wormhole, but we're already breaking the atmosphere. The Commander already has somebody sending the new coordinates to Voltron."

"Good," the medic (Zethe?) replied, "thank you, Ettle. Will you inform him that we will be departing the ship the moment that we've landed?"

"But- but I- I just- just ran- UGH," Ettle turned on their heel and took off back the way they had come.

"Come, quickly," Zethe said, his many legs clicking rapidly across the floor as he left the room, "bring the Paladin!"

We squeaked out a protest when Griff scooped us up, but then he put us on his back and we were too busy being excited about the idea of riding on the back of what we were pretty sure by this point was some sort of feathery raptor dinosaur alien to care about what they were talking about as they raced down the hall.

It wasn't until we heard a click and a swoosh and felt fresh air on our face that we paused, lifting our head and sniffing at the air in wonder. We couldn't remember the last time we had felt fresh air on our face. Griff and Ajelnae seemed to share the same sentiment as we did, for while Zethe hurried on they hesitated and through the connection from being on his back, I felt Griff's heart surge with wonder and relief and happiness as he took a hesitant step off the ship and onto land.

Zethe must have noticed they had stopped, for his voice came from a couple feet ahead, sounding a bit annoyed, "come on! Why have you both stopped!?"

"S-sorry," Ajelnae giggled; she sounded happy and we heard a thud as she fell onto all fours and took off, "I'll race you, Griff!"

We had thought she was only bipedal. Guess we were wrong.

A deep rumble of laughter echoed through Griff, "you must understand, Arachne, that we haven't been on anything less than a ship in a long, long time. Ajelnae! You're on! Hold on tight, hatchling!"

We let out a rumble of laughter ourselves, a laugh that vibrated in our chest but never made it out of our sewn shut mouth. We could feel warmth on our face, on our skin, the warmth of a sun. Not our sun, but a sun. That was good enough for us, and we barely stopped ourselves from smiling (ouch) as Griff picked up speed and breezed right past the Arachne medic, Zethe.

The feeling of the wind through the feathers on our wings almost felt like flying.

* * *

The doctors freaked when we were brought into the empty ER. We almost lost Griff and Ajelnae with them rushing around us, but a few growls brought them running to our side and a couple more growls kept the alien nurses and doctors from making them leave us. According to what we could pick up, the planet was a peaceful planet, called Portakkle, unused to something as horrifying as a creature who has had their mouth sewed up. Something screwed into that creature's brain as well? Preposterous!

One of the nurses got so startled by the sight that they gagged. We would have found it funny had the idea that our face was horrible enough to make someone sick hadn't hurt so much.

The first problem arose when they realized none of their sedatives would work. The bed was comfy enough, but instead of falling asleep from the sedatives they were pumping in through the mask they'd wrestled onto our face, we kept trying to get off the bed.

The second problem arose when one genius doctor said "fuck it" (well, the way she said whatever she had said sounded like that was pretty much the equivalent of what she said) and jammed a needle into our arm. We didn't know what was in it, but the instant she did it everything in us seemed to go dizzy all at once. Bam. Instant grogginess. We toppled over instantly and went limp.

We knew we were awake, were conscious, but nothing really seemed to register. We knew something was happening, but we were too out of it to understand what. It all seemed to slide over us like wind, none of it sticking.

And then, just as sudden as it had happened, the heavy grogginess flushed out of our system. We jolted upright, head pounding, all alone, surrounded by darkness, the soft texture of some sort of alien hospital bed beneath us.

But something seemed different. We blinked, but realized something felt off about the action.

We lifted our hand up to our face. Shut our eyes and ran our hands over our eyelids. That's what it was. Our eyelashes weren't brushing against metal when we blinked. Gasped, a loud choking sound, opening and shutting our mouth like a fish gasping for air. Our mouth. We could open it. We reached up with our hands, ignored the burn as we prodded at the open, raw holes that pierced through our lips. But there was no metal there. We reached up again to our eyes, just to make sure again as if the metal mask would reappear if we didn't. Our face hurt, but there was no mask.

Our lips twitched up into a smile for the first time in too long of a while, growing bigger when we realized that the light in the room was simply off. This darkness was a kindness. Not a hurt. Not a hurt like the darkness that was having our sight taken by that damn mask. With the angel blade metal no longer in our head, it was easier to think. The spell kept us as one, but the thoughts came easier. But already our eyes were adjusting, and we could make out shapes. Shapes! We could see!

We could see.


	7. Chapter 7

(I don't own Voltron or Supernatural.)

We heard the footsteps before the door even opened. We didn't move when we heard it, too busy to care.

"He's right in here," a soft voice said, "just as we promised."

We heard the heartbeats of the ones in the hall quicken, but we remained motionless on the bed, staring at the wall.

"Lance?" hesitant. Familiar. Yet we couldn't decide whether or not we had heard it before. Their voice was hoping, straining, looking for something.

We did not respond, still sitting lotus style on the bed, eyes focused on nothing. Nothing and everything.

"He may need to rest," the soft voice came again, sounding uncertain, "but I can take you to the ones who rescued him. Perhaps they can answer any questions you may have, but they don't have much."

The door closed. The footsteps moved out of hearing. We remained.

Staring. Focusing.

We could not hear angel radio, no matter how hard we tried.

But we kept trying anyways.

Eventually we gave up and started working on our dirty, bloodcaked feathers. We couldn't even see any gold beneath, the feathers that hadn't fallen off from stress and fighting too dirty to shine through the grime.

* * *

They turned up the lights slowly. Gradually. Probably to give our eyes time to adjust.

It wasn't until the room was at normal lighting that footsteps neared the door again. We recognized these ones, instantly perking up. They were accompanied by others, but when the door opened we were ready.

We let out a pleased hum as we leaped through the doorway and grabbed onto Griff's arm. The feel of clean feathers was comforting, and we could feel the corners of our lips tip up a little. We were too used to having had our mouth sewn shut to manage the large grin we felt like beaming at him.

We had been right in our earlier assumptions that Griff may look like some sort of feathery raptor. He was covered in blue feathers, his blood red, jaggedy beak a sharp contrast to the blue. Two cat-like ears twitched on his head and a frill of feathers stood longer than his other feathers down the back of his neck. His underbelly, on the other hand, had scales of purpleish blue color. We ignored all of this and clung to his arm with one hand, a habit from not having been able to see where he was or where he would go, while we gestured wildly to our face with the other.

Unfortunately, he seemed to mistake this as a sign that we were happy to have our mouth open and that damn mask off (trust us, we were) when in fact we were concerned over just how much damage had been done to our face. Instead of telling us, he let out a deep rumble of laughter and gestured with his head to the ones standing behind him.

"Your team has arrived, hatchling!" he told us, sounding pleased, as if this was the best news he had ever had the pleasure of telling someone.

We turned our attention, focusing on the newcomers for the first time. Something pulled at us, a feeling of familiarity, but the short mortal lifespan was dwarfed by the millennia of years having never known them before. We hesitated, staring, our face set in a frown, before we slowly let go of Griff and took a step forward.

The big one instantly broke into a gigantic smile and scooped us up into a bear hug.

We squeaked, startled, and he instantly put us down and backed up, looking ashamed, "sorry! Sorry! Oh, I didn't hurt you, did I!?" -his eyes flickered over us, catching on every mark that shouldn't mar our skin, and we were reminded of how awful we must look- "oh, I hurt you, didn't I!? I'm sorry! I just- I just missed you so much and IwassoworriedandthenIsawyouandIjustcouldn't-"

He looked like he was about to cry. They all looked close to crying. They all looked worried.

We didn't like seeing him look so sad. We wanted him to be happy again.

Friend.

It swirled around our mind.

Friend. Friends.

A deep purr rumbled in the back of our minds. So foreign, yet so familiar. The purr came again: a comforting presence sorting carefully through our thoughts and soothing the turmoil, curiosity as the presence examined the spell, a gentle prod like a cat poking something that peaked its interest and waiting to see if it poked back. It did, the spell angrily lashing out, and the presence retreated, but only momentarily. The purr came again, soothing and comforting as it eased some of the pain that the spell caused us.

Without really knowing why we did so, we reached our hand forward and brushed our fingertips against the human's jacket. A cat poking at something which might prove to bite. It didn't bite. We took a half-step forward, tense and ready to leap away at the smallest sign of a threat. Nothing.

We reached forward, pressing a single hand against the human's arm. With contact made, we reached forward with our Grace. His emotions were a mess. Worry. Relief. Worry. Relief. Even more worry.

The presence in the back of our head poked at the spell's essence again.

Hunk.

Best friend.

Hunk was our best friend, and he was here, he was worried.

He was safe.

We let out a strangled cry that may have once managed to be a laugh and wrapped our arms around him as we initiated the hug this time. His emotions sparked, relief growing stronger than his worry, and hugged us back.

"I was so scared!" he was crying, heavy tears rolling down his face, "I thought you were dead or- or- or dead! And I- ah, man, I missed you so much!"

A small, greenclad form darted in and joined the hug with a happy shout of "Lance!" and we happily welcomed them in with open arms. A redheaded man with pointed ears and an impressive moustache joined the hug too, hugging us tightly.

"It hasn't been the same without you, Number 3!" he said cheerfully, and we hummed and patted the familiar stranger who had his arms wrapped around us even more tightly than Hunk and the kid in the green jacket.

"We're glad you're okay, Lance," a man with a metal arm (Winter Soldier?) patted our shoulder carefully, as if one wrong move might startle us. He was probably right. We liked his hair though, and he smiled a little when we let out a happy hum and reached up and patted his white hair floof.

There was a girl with pointed ears who joined the hug, too, but our attention was caught by the boy in the red jacket, who stood awkwardly to the side, the only one not joining the hug besides Griff.

He had a pretty soul, and I was sure that I knew that mullet from somewhere. I would know that mullet anywhere.

Mullet. Mullet. Mullet.

We did not know that mullet. I knew that mullet. We knew that mullet. Did we?

We let out a whine as we reached up and pulled at our hair. The group hug dissipated around us, but we still felt their concern before they let go and our Grace -my Grace- could no longer reach them without the skin contact.

"Lance?"

We growled, our eyes clenched tightly shut. The new presence in the back of our head began to purr again, a deep rumbling sound that we focused on as an anchor. We still felt miserable when we opened our eyes and smoothed down our dirty hair; yes, we could feel that there was no fixing it right now. We sat down on the floor, pulling in our long legs and tracing the purple wards that striped across our arms. Our wings drooped limply behind us, the feathers that still stubbornly clung to the bare wings grimy and dirty.

"Let's get you home, Lance," the man with the metal arm told us, holding his real hand out to us. After a moment's hesitation, we reached out and grabbed it, allowing him to pull us to our feet.

He moved to head down the hall, and a feeling of alarm spread through us. We glanced back, looking to Griff, before slipping our hand free from the man's loose grip and racing back to the Aline.

We turned and waved goodbye to the mortals before grabbing Griff's clawed hand and happily clicking our tongue as we listened to see if we could find Ajelnae's heartbeat, already trying to move down the hall. The Aline did not move, and we paused to give him a look of confusion, giving his hand a gentle tug.

The Aline gently picked us up and put us down facing the mortals, "that way, hatchling."

We turned back around and stared at him, tilting our head.

He turned us around again, "go on."

We didn't understand. We wanted to go back to the Team. To the Safe. Wanted to stay where we could close our eyes and pretend that Griff's feathers were Michael's or Luci's or Raphie's, back when everything was okay. Was Safe. Was Family.

Did the mortals even have Iveline water? We couldn't know! Surely he wouldn't make us go if we proved we didn't want to go! We didn't want to run away anymore! We turned up our chin and brushed our fingers up against our throat. Thirsty. We signed it again to him just in case we didn't get our point across the first time.

Griff sighed and addressed the mortals, "I'm sorry. He may not be all the way lucid yet. Or maybe the metal's effects have not yet lifted."

"Maybe it's these?" the redheaded elf man said, stepping forward and poking the ward located just below the middle of our collarbone, "what are these for?"

Our mind swirled. We wanted to say. Wanted to explain. But no. We can't. We can't explain. Hunters~ But... the presence chased away the pain with its purr.

"This looks like something I've seen before," the redhead said, narrowing his eyes as his focus turned to the ward located smack dab over our heart, "but where...?"

We frowned and stared down at the purple mark before our face blanched as something else on our body caught our attention. We hadn't stopped to actually see the scar we had left on ourselves, and our hand shook as we reached down and lightly brushed our fingers against it. It spiraled out like a swirling, dying star, stretching out to cover our entire stomach and a good portion of our chest. We shivered, but a warm hand touched our shoulder, the one-armed human giving us a knowing, comforting look. It made us feel a little bit better.

"Griff, wasn't it?" the man asked Griff, who nodded, "I was wondering if I could speak to you for a moment. I didn't get the chance to before."

"Me?"

"I was told you're the one who got him out of there," the man said, "you know the most about what Lance went through other than him, but I'm not sure if he would be up to telling us anything yet."

Griff hesitated, expression falling as he glanced at me, a bit of softness in those fierce, bird-like eyes, "I didn't do it alone, not the escape and not getting him out of there. Radvar was more enthusiastic about getting him out. And I think Malleki fought him in the Arena, so you may be better off asking him."

"Maybe I could talk to you both?" the one-armed man had stiffened at the mention of an arena.

Griff's taloned feet tapped the floor for a moment before he nodded, "very well. I'll tell you what I know. But not where the hatchling could hear. He needn't go through it again, not yet. But I don't know much. I know some of what they did, but most of what they did is unknown."

We took a step forward when Griff and the one armed man started off down the hall, whispering in hushed tones, but the red one brushed past us on the way back down the hall in the other direction than Griff was going and we made a decision of origins we were unsure of. We reached forward and grabbed Mullet's hand.

He froze, turning his head, eyes flickering up to meet our eyes, and we stared blankly back at him, Grace surging to our hand to get a read.

It was beautiful. He was like flames, beautiful and dangerous, burning, able to hurt, able to warm. His emotions sparked like wildfire, his thoughts raced like dancing flames and we considered peeking just a little bit closer, wondering what danced within those flickering flames, but for that our Grace would have to delve deeper, and we were trapped. We could not. We could only skim the surface that brushed against our skin. We had our sight, we had our voice, but some of our senses were still kept from us.

We gently squeezed his hand and let out a happy hum, tilting our head at him as we waited for him to start walking. Where was he going? Where would the flames blaze next?

"Um," he tried to pull his hand away, confused, and we simply entwined his hand in ours, wrapping our fingers around his. See, Mullet? Simple. What was there to be confused about?

The others were silent though, staring at us both.

We rolled our eyes and let a growl rumble from our throat. We weren't quite ready to open our mouth yet to make noises, so we didn't bother trying.

"Lance?" Mullet stared at us, a slight redness rising to his cheeks, and we continued to stare back. We did not answer, though we could tell he expected us to.

"It's going to be okay," the green one murmured to Hunk, and we could feel their eyes, lingering on the scars that marred our face, "even if he won't... won't talk right now. Even if it doesn't seem like it. He's still Lance. The Galra can never take that away... right?"

Hunk took the green one's hand in his and squeezed it. But he did not answer her.

When the man with the metal arm returned, there was a darkness in his eyes, in his face, in his very heart.

"Did he tell you anything?" Mullet asked, but the man did not answer, "Shiro? Did he tell you anything?"

"Let's go home," (Shiro, was that the name Mullet called him? It seemed... familiar. Why?) said softly, jaw set in a way that reminded me of someone I had known once (D... D...n... Tuesdays? Chester? Who?). We shook our head, the spell quickly shoving the I and the me into we and us again, "Lance has been gone long enough."

"But he's going to be okay, now, right? We've got him back," the green one said.

Shiro didn't meet her eyes. Instead, he started down the hall without another word.

We looked back, but Griff was gone. We couldn't see him or hear him.

He was gone.

We let go of Mullet's hand. He didn't try to stop us, but they all stopped and watched as we stumbled down the hall on shaky feet.

We listened, but could not hear him. We had our sight, but still we could not see him.

Something soft brushed against our foot and we paused, looking down at it. A blue feather. We reached down and picked it up; our vision shook, and in our confusion, the blue of the feather almost seemed to be a soft pink.

Luci? Big brother? Has he come back?

Are we going to be a family again? Or has he come to kill me? Me. Come to kill me?

Come to kill us. Has he?

Come to take us home?

We want to go home.

We blinked, and the feather focused. Blue. It was blue.

We looked up, but Griff was still gone. Gone like everyone else always ended up doing.

We growled, taking another step forward. Swallowed. Tried again.

"Grrr... Grrr..."

We stared down the empty hall.

"Grr..." we frowned, breathing in a shaky breath before trying again.

"Grrr... Griiii... fff... vvvv..."

And then we managed it. From a throat rusty with disuse and unable to be healed by the Grace that was trapped within us, we found words and threw them forth in a raspy, shaky voice.

"Griff?"

But no answer came.

Lost. Alone. Confused.

Abandoned again.

We stared at the empty hall.

We hadn't even gotten to say goodbye. To any of them. We didn't even know what they looked like.

"Here."

We looked up, then down at the thing Shiro held out to us.

"He wanted you to have this. Something about how he had a feeling you wouldn't be able to say goodbye yet. You can contact him with this. Him and the others that got you out of there."

We accepted the device, staring at it.

Not abandoned? We didn't understand.

We looked up at Shiro, wondering how much Griff had told him.

Shiro.

Some part of us recognized that name.

"You want to see Blue?" he asked us.

The purring from the presence lurking in the back of our head increased. Blue. A warm feeling blossomed in our chest. Yes. We wanted to see Blue again. We just didn't know why.

This time, when Shiro started back down the hall, we followed.


	8. Chapter 8

(I don't own Voltron or Supernatural.)

She was beautiful.

The presence purred louder at the compliment, but we knew it was the truth as we stared up at the towering form that the presence inhabited. We could feel her when he pressed a hand against the smooth metal, a beautiful, shimmering, shining beacon of the purest, closest thing to a soul besides an actual soul that we had ever come across. We would have wondered if it was Grace, if we hadn't known better.

The giant blue robotic lion lowered its head, nuzzling us with more finesse and gentleness that we thought a gigantic robotic lion could have, what with the fact that she would give even my true form a run for its money in size -well, probably not. Up to my waist, perhaps?-. Not too surprising, of course, seeing as we- as I- was the youngest of the archangels. Taller than the angels, but smaller than the older archangels.

We smiled, then. An actual smile. It felt weird, feeling our lips pull across our teeth as we gave the Blue Lion a toothy grin, but it was worth it. It felt good. We felt happy.

The Blue Lion purred even louder, drowning out the chaos in our head, smoothing out our thoughts. She opened her mouth and we felt the pull and we responded. We walked up the ramp and found a seat which, upon having sat down in it, moved on its own to a console.

We've been here before. We could feel it.

"Huh," we let out a breath we hadn't known we'd been holding and reached forward to grab onto the two handles in front of us.

SAFE

We could see it. Five lions, soaring through the stars, side by side, coming together.

VOLTRON

We gasped, letting go of the handles. Blue waited, patient, pushing, urging us.

We reached forward and grabbed onto the handles.

SAFE. HAPPY. CUB SAVE.

PALADIN BACK.

WE WERE THREE IS ONE.

AS VOLTRON WAS FIVE IS ONE.

WE ARE.

We grinned, Grace surging. For the first time in too long, spreading out and into the Lion.

SOUL GRACE QUINTESSENCE

ONE

The whole Lion became like a second vessel. And yet it was different. We controlled it like any other vessel, but we could feel that the Blue Lion still had control. Enough that she could take it back at any time.

It was exhilarating. We turned in a circle, large mechanical tail flicking lazily behind us as we tested it out. It was an odd feeling, being on four paws.

"How's it feel to be back in your Lion?"

The voice came from within the Lion. Grace and Soul slipped back into the cockpit, loosening the hold on the Lion slightly. The female elf creature stood, hands holding onto the back of our chair. We smiled with the mouth of our living vessel, then focused the majority of our attention back onto the Lion as we 'linked' back in.

We stepped forward, feeling the ground beneath our metal paws. We dug our claws into the grass-like alien plants, leaving deep gouges in the ground. Something black stepped into our vision, and we had to tip our large metal head up to look at the larger mechanical lion.

PRIDE. ALPHA. BLACK. SAFE.

We bumped our head against Black's and rubbed our side against the other Lion in greeting, content as we felt Black dip into our mind, curious quintessence purring in our mind before retreating. We soon found our attention caught as the other Lions came to life around us, each coming over to greet us and poke at the combination of Grace and Soul and Quintessence with their own quintessence. Blue kept us from spooking, her content purr resonating in our mind like rainfall.

"Looks like the other Lions are happy to see Lance back, too," a voice laughed over the comm in our helmet, originating from one of the mortals. We recognized it as Hunk, "I haven't even touched the controls yet."

The others let out confirmations that the same went for them. They sounded confused. But it was a happy sounding confusion, if that could make sense.

"Should we try forming Voltron?" Mullet asked over the comms, "Lance has been gone for over..." his voice trailed off, sounding very much like he didn't want to finish his sentence.

"Five months, two weeks, and five days," the green one answered softly, finishing it for him.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Keith," Shiro said, "let's just give Lance some time to settle, alright?"

There was silence for a long moment.

"What he told you... was it... was what he told you... was it that bad?" Hunk stammered out the words, voice soft. He sounded like he'd already guessed on what that answer might be.

The female elf tightened her grip on the back of our chair, "let's get back to the Castle, shall we?"

Castle?

"Agreed," the elf with the moustache responded, "I'd like to maybe get Lance into a pod. Or at least get a scan of him to see how he's doing."

The other Lions turned as their Paladins turned the controls. We watched, tail flicking once in confusion before we followed them. We didn't want to seperate from the Lion, from Blue, and go back to being trapped within the confines of this vessel instead of having free rein of within the Lion.

But we followed them anyways.

* * *

"Alrighty! Just hold still..."

We scrunched up our face before staring up and around at our surroundings.

"No, you have to hold still."

We paused and stared at him, not moving a muscle.

"Good enough," moustache elf muttered, and the machine let out a whir as he powered it on. We moved to follow it with our eyes when parts of the machine started moving around us; it took one more comment from the elf for us to stop and stand still.

"And done!"

They all crowded around the little screen on the side of the odd pod thing.

"Uh-huh... mm-hmm," Hunk said, squinting his eyes at the odd symbols the screen showed, "okay, uh, I still can't read Altean. What does it say?"

"Let's see... a tad malnourished, but that's easy enough to fix... and let's see, it says..."

The elf frowned, staring at the machine.

"That.. that can't be right. It... there must be something wrong with it. It is over ten thousand years old, you know! Let me take a look at it..."

He tapped the screen a couple times before starting the machine back up. It moved around us again, whirring away the whole time, before finally stopping; more 'Altean' popped up on the screen. The elf frowned at it.

"It can't be a mistake," the green one said, connecting a plug to it and opening up a laptop on the other end of the cord. They tapped away at their keyboard before frowning a couple minutes larer, "the machine doesn't seem to have anything wrong with it."

The female elf leaned over and frowned at the screen too, and then her eyes snapped onto us. We turned our head and stared back at her, only moving when she moved toward us quickly, a rush of movement towards us. A charging centipede monster flashed through our mind, and we felt a burst of fear as we remembered the first time we'd been thrown into the arena. Remembered what happened right after. Remembered the burn of the metal in our face.

We bared our teeth, every breath a panicked gasp, recoiling as far from her as we could in the small pod, eyes wide and chest rising and falling in quick bursts as we struggled to make ourself look small, our wings flared out in an attempt to look bigger even though none of them could see them. Our features curled into one of pure fear. We thought this was Safe. Blue promised Safe! Was she like the witch!? Was she going to put the metal back!? Were we going back to the Dark!? We gasped, trying to cement the feeling of being able to open our mouth into our memory to think back on when the ability to do so was taken from us again.

"Allura," Shiro snapped sharply, and our eyes flickered to him before quickly snapping back onto 'Allura's' now frozen form.

Her outstretched hand was still frozen in the air, but at Shiro's voice, she pulled it back and covered her mouth. She stepped forward, towards us, and reached out again, but retreated when we flinched at the action.

"I'm- I- sorry- I'm sorry!" she stammered, "I didn't think..."

"Hey," Shiro crouched down to match eye level with us where we sat curled up in the corner. He waited a moment before moving forward slowly. When he reached towards us, he did it slowly, holding himself in such a way that we could tell he would move away without complaint if we reacted negatively. We let him reach forward, relaxing a bit when his hand -the real one- touched our shoulder gently and we could sense only good intent within him. Safe.

We moved forward quickly, hugging him tightly as if this would keep him from leaving us like everyone else does. He rubbed circles on our back, hugging us back just as tightly, not letting go until we pulled away first. Our breathing and heart rate had gone down significantly, and we were calm enough to shake away the doubts in our mind. Safe.

"Better?"

We nodded, embarrassed for freaking out.

"It's okay if you aren't, you know," Mullet said.

We hesitated but finally nodded. After a long moment, we stretched out and grabbed onto Mullet's hand, finding comfort in the wildfire of him. He didn't try to pull away like he did yesterday and we let out a happy chittering chirp as we slowly got to our feet and out of the weird pod.

"We'll need to do more scans," Allura told the other elf, ""it can't be right."

"Hold up!" Hunk held his hands up, "what, exactly, does it even say?"

"There's... I'm not sure how to even explain it," Allura said, sending the screen a thoughtful expression.

"Well!" The redheaded elf leaped up next to us, face going quite close to our own.

We yelped and clung to Mullet, going as far as to cling to him like a baby orangutan clinging to its mother. He yelped himself, almost falling over now that we were hanging on him and had our legs wrapped around his midsection and our arms around his neck.

"Both his quintessence and his brainwaves are all scrambled!" the redhead said enthusiastically, "like a wittlepert after a grugnar has gotten through with it! And there's something mixed in with it too! Well, that's what the machine is telling us, anyways..."

We stared at him in wonder, wondering how one creature could be so over the place. He reminded us of... of... we growled and let go of Mullet, letting ourself fall back to the floor. The instant our feet had touched the ground we set off and got right up in the elf's face, squinting at the things on his face. We reached out, but he caught our hand before we could poke the little crescents below his eyes.

"Well, maybe it was correct about the brainwaves," he said, catching our other hand when we reached out with that one, "he isn't really acting too much like the Lance I remember."

We grinned and pulled our hands free, catching his face in our hands and letting out a happy laugh at our victory. The crescents were smooth beneath our fingertips.

"Here!" Allure shouted in victory, and we cried out and let go of the male elf before darting under the nearest table. Her expression seemed a bit guilty, but seemed to relax when Mullet held his hand out and we eagerly left the safety of the table and took the offered hand.

"What is it?"

"Those wards are acting as some sort of spell," Allura said, a triumphant grin on her face as she tapped at the screen, "whatever type of spell it is must be the cause of his odd behavior! If we can figure out how to break the spell, then he might go back to normal."

"So... how do we break it?" Shiro's asked, leaning against the outside of the pod, "and what does the spell do?"

"Lance?" Hunk spoke, hesitant as if he was unsure if he would get an answer, "Lance, what kind of spell did the druids put in you?"

What did they do to you?

A silent question, lurking beneath his words. A question we were afraid to answer.

We frowned, reaching up and rubbing at where the collar-like markings were on our neck. Trapped. Stuck. We looked over our shoulder at our ragged wings. We looked back at Hunk and let go of Mullet's hand.

"Hungry," we grumbled, frowning as we did so, finding the sensation of talking to feel unnervingly unfamiliar.

He grinned and clapped his hands together, "okay, that's cool. Uh, so I can make, like, I found some things that aren't exactly garlic knots, but they're close enough. At least I think so. But these are going to be the best almost garlic knots you've ever tasted in your entire life! Come on!"

He grabbed our hand, already leading us down the hall, happily going on about the alien ingredients he'd found and how he was pretty sure we would love the almost garlic knots even more than we loved garlic knots. We had no idea what garlic knots were, but he seemed pretty happy so we just smiled and followed.

We learned that we did, indeed, love garlic knots.

* * *

The Castle of Lions was quiet at night.

We turned over in the bed in the room we had been told was ours. It was nicer than standing, like we had in the cell, but it lacked the familiar feeling of hard metal beneath us that we had grown accustomed to with our blanket bed back on the ship.

The quiet was as loud as quiet could be, but for the almost silent whirring of machinery in the walls. Our breathing was the only one in the room.

We sat up and took a deep breath, letting it out as slowly as we dragged it in. We felt a bit calmer after doing that a couple times and settling our heartbeat. We stood up and moved over the the panel on the wall that controlled the lights and turned them on; we felt a little bit better out of the dark in this quiet. It hadn't been long enough yet to welcome it like we used to when we wanted to sleep.

After a couple moments spent coming to the realization that sleep would not be coming soon (not that we needed it, but we quite liked sleeping), we left the room and started down the hall, intent on finding the showers and washing off the blood and dirt that caked our body like a second skin. And maybe getting what was left of our wings fixed up as well.

About an hour of wandering (and several accidental laps circling through the same set of halls) we passed a room where a soft glow reached out under the door. It was an odd unfamiliarity in the dim lighting of the sleeping Castle. We brushed open the door and walked into the room on silent feet.

The green one had fallen asleep at her laptop. We stood there, eyes moving around the odd room. No bed. Wasn't at all similar to the style of the one we had. Not the green one's bedroom, then, but there was enough pieces of metal and mechanical items to guess that this was where the little engineer spent a good deal of time.

Sleeping on a keyboard could not possibly be comfortable though.

We edged nearer, gently scooping her up in our arms. Female. We could sense it.

Boy. I can't man up, I'm a girl. Girl. How did everyone else know?

We shook our head, shaking loose the memories. They scattered back into the depths of our mind, mixing and swirling before fading into the churning sea of combined memories.

Family.

She squirmed for a moment against our bare chest (a moment of realization that we had yet to change from the simple cloth shorts we'd first stepped out into the arena in made our face burn with embarrassment), but she did not wake up. Carefully, we gently closed the lid of her laptop with the shoulder of our middle right wing before we stepped back into the hall and hesitated when we heard the door shut behind us and the green one let out a grumble.

But she didn't wake up, so we set off, eyes searching for her room. She couldn't be too far from it, could she?

Nontheless, we wandered for about an hour carrying the green one until coming across a cluttered room. It looked techy enough, and the bed wasn't occupied. It had to be the right one. But how to get over all the junk?

We hopped up, beating our six wings with large, heavy flaps. The Galra had kept our wings carefully trimmed, and our wings were in tatters anyways, so we could not fly. It was humiliating, the little chicken-like glide hop we shakily managed before almost slamming both us and the mortal into the wall (which we didn't!... Uh, run into the wall, that is).

We used a wing to draw back the blanket on the messy bed and to brush a couple screws off of it, then gently laid the green one down and pulled the blanket up to cover her.

She slept on, and we hoped she was more comfortable in the bed with an actual pillow than using a keyboard as a pillow substitute. We left her sleeping, resuming our search for the showers.

Soon enough we passed the dining hall and, of course, wandered in to reach the kitchen. The big guy was asleep at the counter, looking like he'd just decided to pass out there. He was lucky he hadn't fallen face-first into whatever it was that had been attempting to cook. We rolled our eyes and picked Hunk up. He was larger than us, so it was a bit awkward at first trying to get a good grip, but Archangel strength made it so we capable of picking him up.

We might as well make sure all of them were in bed and sleeping peacefully. The least we could do for them giving us a new Safe.

Why do anything? They've carried on just fine without us.

But we ignored that part that wanted to just worry for ourself.

Hunk's room was easier to find, once we went back the way we had come and explored the long hall our room and the green one's room could be found in. We found it easy enough (and were relieved to find that it was a lot cleaner than the green one's, as we could not have managed a chicken flop that would carry both of us across a bit of junk like we had with the smaller green one).

Once Hunk was settled in his bed (and hadn't even stirred once, so we figured he had more just passed out from exhaustion rather than fallen asleep), we set out in search of any other wayward Paladins.

Instead of other Paladins, we found a room that was dark yet aglow.

We stopped outside the room before going in, surprised to find ourselves in some sort of viewing/control room, the glow coming from the light pouring in through the glass that overlooked a sort of training area. The buttons and dials all emitted a soft glow as well. We looked down through the glass to see Shiro and Mullet, leaping and dancing the dance of battle as they faced off against a smooth-metalled robot. We stifffened but some part of us knew they were in no danger, so we relaxed and walked farther into the room. We could see their lips moving; talking to each other. We found a dial that turned on speakers that broadcasted the noise in the training room when we twisted it, our Grace translating the symbols for us when we ran our fingers across them. We clicked it on.

"-not Lance."

We stiffened and turned up the speaker dial. The voices poured in more clearly.

"Keith," and we tilted our head as we recognized Shiro's voice, "he was with the Galra for nearly six months."

"Exactly! Six months! Six months of looking, of worrying, of having no idea where he was! And we weren't even the ones who found him, who saved him! If those aliens hadn't broken out, he would still be in there! He was all alone in there, Shiro! He probably didn't even know we were looking!"

A grunt. We looked out the window in time to see Shiro pulling Keith back to his feet and out of the way of the robot's next strike. He must have gotten hit while he was distracted yelling.

"End simulator!" Shiro yelled. We jumped and backed away from the window, thinking he had spotted us and was talking to us for a moment, but then something in the room clicked by itself and the simulator ended itself.

"And then," Keith's voice dropped, no longer a yell, "and then we finally get him back and... he's just not Lance, Shiro."

Something in us hurt, hearing those words.

We didn't know why.

Shiro didn't answer. We looked through the window again to see him sitting down and patting the ground beside him. Keith sat down beside him and our gaze lingered on him for a moment before we ducked back of sight in case they glanced this way.

"You wanna talk about it?" Shiro asked softly.

When a couple minutes passed, we checked to make sure the speakers were working. They were. We peeked out the window, but they were still there.

"There...there's just..." Keith broke the silence, finally, "he's so quiet, Shiro. I've only heard him say a total of two words since we got him back. It's just so... so unLance. And... and he's so scared... You saw how he reacted to Allura this afternoon. He looked at her as if she was about to kill him."

A moment's silence.

"Griff told you what they did to him, didn't he?" Keith asked, "what did he say?"

"He..." Shiro hesitated, "I'm not sure if it's my place to tell you."

"PLEASE, Shiro," Keith said. His voice sounded broken. Desperate.

Something within us churned.

"I hadn't known it would hurt so much to have him gone. For almost six months I've expected to hear him flirting with Allura or to hear him say something about my mullet or any of the stupid things he does, and then- then I would REMEMBER. That he was gone. That we didn't know where he was, that he was probably dead... so.. so I need to know what they did, Shiro. I- I have to. He's... he's not Lance, Shiro! I need to know what happened to him!"

We slumped against the wall and closed our eyes, taking a deep breath. In, then out as slowly as we brought it in. We waited through the silence that stretched on and on, until Shiro's voice finally broke it.

"The only one who knows what they did and can tell you is Lance," Shiro said finally, "Griff said everybody else just knew what went on in the arena and what they saw when they got him out of his cell."

"So tell me that much at least."

We could hear Shiro's sigh; heavy, tired, too young to deal with all of this.

"Please don't ask me to talk about it, Keith."

"...It was that bad?"

We brought in a shaky breath, pulled our wings in closer. We reached out and turned off the speakers.

"Thhh..." we paused, tastingthe words on our tongue before throwing them out to the silent room, words nobody else would hear, could hear, "th... thank... thank you..."

We growled, forcing Grace into our throat even when we choked on it, doubled over on the console, gasping, choking, suffocating. But then our throats was finally healed and we let our Grace fall back down and we could breath.

"Thank you, Shiro," we croaked out, panting from the feeling of having been suffocated. But it had served its purpose. We swallowed, rubbing an absentminded hand down our healed throat, "thank you."

We turned and left the silent room behind, intent on resuming our search for the showers.


	9. Chapter 9

(I don't own Voltron or Supernatural.)

We looked into the mirror, staring at ourselves, the steam still rising off our body from the shower we'd been taking for at least the last few hours. We had scrubbed and scrubbed the entire time, especially at our wings. The entire time, the water had been dark. We didn't get out until it was clear.

But now we were looking at our reflection, seeing the reminders the Galra had left us.

Where the mask had been, it had left a jagged mask imprint, lighter than the skin around it, that made us look as if we were still wearing a mask of some sort. Our fingers trailed across it before falling down to brush against our lips, staring at the lines that crossed our mouth. They weren't as bad as they could have been, we supposed, for the alien doctors had done good on fixing us to the best of their ability. They had healed better than if they had been treated at an Earth hospital.

We did not lower our eyes below our neck. The sight of what we had done to this vessel in that second fight was not something we wanted to remember. We swallowed nervously at the memory, wincing as we felt a bit of pain from our throat as we did so.

Our hair was a bit scruffier than we remembered it being. We fumbled around until finding some equivalent to a dwarer, surprised to actually find scissors within like we had hoped we would. We snipped away at our wild mane until it resembled how we remembered it being. An Archangel on a beach within a human's mind, seeking permission to stay. A mortal in a mirror, staring into those eyes wondering if home and family would ever be seen again. We had seen it. Both.

We were satisfied when that was done; we would even go as far as to say we even felt a bit more comfortable in the vessel once our hair was back to how it had been prior to the Arena. Being clean for the first time in what felt like an eternity certainly helped too. Blue purred in the back of our mind, proud of us for taking these few first steps into feeling better. Steps towards getting closer to being able to look at our reflection without seeing a monster.

We let our head drop, closing our eyes. Too dark. We opened them, staring with unfocused eyes at the drain in the odd alien sink.

"Oh- Whoa! Okay!"

We glanced over our shoulder, staring out of the corner of our eye. Mullet. Keith. His face beet red, a lick of emotions so strong that they almost touched our skin and almost met our Grace, yet far enough away that we felt and yet did not know what it was that he was feeling.

"Jeez, warn a guy next time," Keith grumbled, purposely not staring at us as he made his way towards one of the shower pods. We'd learned from our own experience that once he stepped into one and closed it, the clear glass would turn color so that it would no longer be see-through. We hoped he wasn't tricked by the little bench thing that took your clothes when you took them off before stepping into the shower portion of the pod.

"The Greeks often played their games completely in the nude," we said calmly, turning our head back towards the mirror and staring back into the eyes of our reflection, wondering who was staring back at us, "that was how the Olympics were played, originally. Though.. women were not allowed to join in or spectate. That was disappointing, considering the fact that in Olympus the rules carried there as well. Probably because all the women pagans would have kicked the mens' collective asses."

Keith froze, and our eyes flickered up to his reflection that we saw in the mirror, his hand still reaching towards the shower pod. He stared at us with wide eyes.

"You... you just...you just talked."

We turned, raising an eyebrow at the mortal. He kept his eyes stubbornly focused on our face. We wondered why he looked nowhere else until we let ourself look down despite not wanting to see the scar on our chest. Ah. No clothes. Why would that bother- oh. This wasn't Greece. This was space. In... sometime past 2000s? Yes. Mortals are odd about this sort of thing.

"Not Lance," we said, "right? Talking must be a very not Lance thing to do."

The red on his face somehow grew even redder, something we hadn't known was possible with how red it had already been.

"You... heard that. The whole.. not Lance thing."

"Yes," we confirmed.

He sighed and ran his hand down his face, "look, I.. I know that you must have gone through a lot during your time with the Galra. I didn't mean anything by it, not really-"

"You want to know what happened there," we said, and we found ourselves diverting our gaze from his, our eyes inspecting one of the pods instead, "yet you went to Shiro to ask. But he does not know, and neither did Griff. Not all of it."

He was silent for a long moment, but we didn't move our gaze onto him.

"Lance..." he spoke, voice soft, and there was something odd about that, as if something in us told us that wasn't a tone we'd heard him use on us before, "I didn't think you'd want to.. look, I'm not good at this whole people thing, okay? I can't help you feel better, and I don't even know how I would even start on trying to make you feel better."

We took a deep breath before turning our eyes back to his, our brow furrowed, "you could have asked. Any questions you have, you'll get answers. But not from Shiro."

He opened his mouth, about to say something, but a loud voice cut in before that could happen.

"JESUS CHRIST!" a shrill voice screeched, and both Keith and I jumped, turning in unison to see the green one covering her eyes, already going red from head to toe.

"Good morning," we said calmly.

"P- Pants! Please- please put on some clothes!" the green one shrieked, not moving her hands from her eyes, "NOW!"

Keith went beet red again, as if remembering my lack of attire.

"The pants disappeared. The wall took them," we explained, "there is no clothes to put on."

"H-hold on!" Keith said quickly, "I'll, uh, I'll go find you some. Just, like, I don't know-"

"TOWEL!" the green one screeched at us.

"Right!" Keith snapped his fingers, "uh- towel! Put on a towel!"

He snatched up the nearest one that he could find and tossed it at us. We watched it fall to the floor before we rolled our eyes and picked it up. We wrapped it around ourself, covering our chest and lower area. Wait, no, this was past that part in humanity's history where males were not allowed to show their chest. Weird mortals. Why let males do that and not females? We shook our head and undid the towel, wrapping it around our lower half instead.

"Was it requested that you interrupt us?" we gestured to ourself, "why didn't either of you knock, if you are that upset about the possibility of a lack of attire? This is a **shower** room."

The green one lowered her hand slowly, squinting at us, "wait a minute... you're talking again! Oddly, but uh, talking."

We stared at the two of them before we rolled our eyes and breezed past them as dignified as a guy wearing only a towel can be.

"Have you been up all night?"

"Hmm?" we hummed, pausing at the exit.

"I mean.." the green one paused before throwing her words forth, "I got up to pee, and this is the quickest shortcut there -but it was kind of weird because I really don't remember going back to my room- and Keith's always up being emo-"

"HEY!"

"-but you usually don't get up so early so why..." she trailed off, eyes catching obviously on the Galra markings before she averted her eyes from us, "um, never- nevermind, for- forget I said anything, Lance."

"You can ask whatever you want to ask."

"No, it.. I should have-" she let out an irritated huff, "-I just- nevermind. Go. Get clothes."

We nodded and turned.

"Wait!"

We paused, managing not to let our irritation show as we turned back around.

The green one fiddled with her hands, looking hesitant before meeting our eyes with her own, "are you.. are you okay?"

We opened our mouth, but found that we had no words for her, for we couldn't agree on what to say this time. Instead of answering her, we turned and left the room.

* * *

We found a couple outfits in our room (after first finding the closet, of course), but were quite disappointed in the variety. A single blue/white shirt? We left it and examined our room further, until a flash of a memory shifted through our mind as we paced past our bed.

We returned to the closet and tapped a panel inside of it; a part of the wall inside slid up and we hesitated before grabbing the clothing and squeezing it against our chest. It was a brown jacket, with an orange stripe on both sleeves and a white hood. It felt important, a warm feeling in our chest as we clutched the soft fabric, and we smiled as a nostalgic feeling rose up in us, a blurry memory at the edge of our mind.

Something about a brother. This jacket was his. He gave it to me.

The spell lashed out, almost as if angry. Blue's constant presence retreated in surprise for a single moment before returning with a roar, but the spell had grabbed back the small amount of ground Blue had managed to chip away. A grumbling growl echoed through our mind before Blue eased back into the barely noticeable presence she held in our mind, already poking at the spell again.

We let the jacket fall from our hands, the feeling gone, and resumed our search. We found a pair of jeans, but after so long in the shorts we had worn the last several months, the clothing felt tight and restrictive on our legs. The same went for the underwear, but kept those on after pulling them on, despite how unfamiliar it was to be wearing it instead of only the shorts. A sense of disgust rose up in us as we realized the Galra must have undressed us completely before getting us into those shorts. Perverted little-

We tripped over the jeans we had left on the floor and gave the article of clothing the dirtiest look we could muster before snatching them up and getting into them. The jeans still felt uncomfortable, but we ignored it and pulled the shirt off its hanger. The feeling of a shirt was even odder than the pants. But it made us feel...

It made us feel human. At least a little.

We mustered the smallest of smiles and picked the jacket up off the ground, brushing the dust off of it and pulling it on.

We felt human again. As human as an archangel can be, at least, and as human as a human can be.

It was nice not to feel like a monster.

* * *

The Castle was already starting to awaken, as the clocks assured us that it was morning even when we had no sky to let us know. They all seemed eager to keep us within their sights as much as they could, as if we would disappear otherwise, and one of them was always nearby.

Keith and the green one did not mention this early morning's events, and we did not prompt them to mention it. In fact, we hadn't spoken a single word since then, either. Words were difficult, when our one mind was originally two.

First thing Hunk did was sit us down with a large meal for breakfast. We stared at the food gathered on the table (and the mortals, who seemed happy by the prospect of the food Hunk had made), then back at Hunk who waited beside us expectantly. Some part of us didn't want to let him down, so we reached towards the heaping plate before us and picked up a piece of what appeared to be bacon.

"Don't eat too fast, okay?" Hunk said quickly, making us pause before we could put the food in our mouth, "and if you feel full, don't eat any more. Shiro says that your stomach might be smaller and none of us want you to get hurt. But, like, you know, dig in? Um..."

We gave him a grateful look before putting the bacon thing in our mouth. It didn't quite taste like bacon but we chewed it slowly before swallowing it, wincing as our throat burned at the simple action. We pushed our plate away, rubbing our throat and shaking our head, "...full... sorry."

Hunk's face fell, but he took our plate, staring at it with a downcast expression, "oh... well, uh, that's okay, Lance. You're probably still full from eating garlic knots yesterday. It's probably been a while since you last ate, huh?"

"Yes," we admitted.

"Do you want anything to drink?"

We paused, thinking, before speaking up, "I-...Iveline water?"

"Iveline water?" Coran asked, twisting one end of his moustache around his finger, "never heard of it. Must be new."

"Oh," we stared at the food before us, dreading what might happen if we couldn't get our hands on some sugar. The Trickster...

"That's the sugar water that Griff was talking about, wasn't it?" Shiro spoke, spearing a piece of food with.. was that a spork?

"Iveline!" we nodded quickly.

"Perhaps we can pick it up next time we stop," Allura decided, and we decided that maybe she wasn't all that bad.

"Are we talking space mall?" the green one asked, large smile on her face at the idea.

"Yes, Pidge," Allura smiled back, "we're talking space mall."

(Hey, so, thank you for all the positive feedback guys! One thing for you all: what needs improved with this story? What am I doing wrong and how could I fix it? And what would you guys like to see in this story? You can answer any or all of these questions, and thank you all for reading and reviewing!)


	10. Chapter 10

(I don't own Supernatural or Voltron.)

The space mall was large, and while the other Paladins looked around in exited awe, we merely raised an eyebrow at it. It did not compare to some of the things we'd seen. I'd seen.

"Want to raid the fountain again?" the green one bounced around me, excitement clear on her face. We stared at her, unimpressed, and she continued talking, "we got the game system set up but maybe this one has more games! Maybe we could get another Kaltenecker, too!"

We looked around at our surroundings. As if our silence had summoned their attention, the other members of Voltron, including Coran and Allura, tried to appear as if they weren't looking at us, waiting for our reaction. When we didn't, they turned their attention back on each other, figuring out plans and rendezvous.

The mall was full of aliens, some of which stared at us in wonder or confusion or disgust at our scars, but all it took was for us to bare our teeth at the ones who stared in disgust and most were quick to look away and hurry off.

There were a lot of shops. Was the whole moon covered with this space mall? And then we saw it; it was unmistakable, bright and cheerful and colorful. We took off towards it the moment we felt their attention on us slip. We came skidding to a stop within and stared in wonder at all that surrounded us.

Candy. Thousands and thousands of pieces of candy. Alien candy, Earth candy, so much candy!

We grabbed a piece of candy that we didn't recognize, turning it over in our hands before bringing it up to our mouth-

"A hundred GAC."

We froze and turned a glare on the shopkeeper. He was an odd looking thing, and looked a bit shriveled. A scattering of feathers stuck out here and there from his mottled, shriveled skin, and our nose scrunched up in disgust; the thing was humanoidish, despite the feathers, though his legs turned too much like a bird's and his feet resembled a bird's as well. He looked like a harpy (and we would know -thanks HADES for sicking your damned furies on us that one time- no me, it was me at the time) besides the fact that he looked like somebody had plucked him and two sharp fangs stuck from his mouth like saber teeth, his mouth a bit more like a muzzle than a human's to make room for the sabers.

"We don't have any GAC," we said, though a part of us believed that a hundred GAC for a single piece of candy was too much.

"Well, I don't have any candy for you," he said, though his eyes gleamed with greed as he looked us over, "unless, of course, you'd be willing to offer something else."

We thought it over, "and what, exactly, could it be that you want?"

"Quintessence."

We relaxed a little, "quintessence?"

His nose twitched, "yes. Quintessence. You **reek** of it!"

Quintessence. The word sparked something in us.

We brought one of our wings closer and plucked the shiniest feather; a bit irritating, considering the wings are just starting to get better, but hey! Candy!

The harpy thing's eyes widened as we seemed to miraculously pull a feather from thin air, and they widened even further when we grabbed his hand, resisted the urge to let go and wipe our hand off now and never grab the revolting creature's hand again, and stuck the feather in his face. His nose twitched wildly and we grinned a Loki grin.

"How much would this be worth?" we asked.

"Five pieces of candy?"

"Do better. How about this gets sold to you, and then we get free rein of your shop?"

"It.. probably isn't worth that much."

"Really not in the mood to haggle," we warned, "this is a bonafide Archangel feather. You're not going to be able to get one anywhere else and you can count the number of mortals that have even seen one of one hand."

He looked at his three taloned fingers and then at our five fingered hands, probably trying to figure out whose hand.

"Well? I've got more than one?"

Dangerous. Too dangerous. Don't give up a feather. Not a single feather! Come on, we've lost enough, what's one more?

He grabbed a small box from beneath his counter and tossed it to us, "that feather could keep me going for years! A feather! A single feather! Here! Now give me it!"

We opened the box slowly and looked inside. We pulled out the single card inside and looked up at him, raising an eyebrow.

"GAC card," he informed us, "Frell, I'll even continue putting some GAC on it for ya if you just GIVE me the feather now!"

"A deal with an Archangel is lasting, my friend," I said, shaking his hand, "and we have one. Keep it. The deal AND the feather."

He snatched the golden feather, staring at it in wonder before bringing it up to his face. He sniffed it like it was Eden's flowers before sinking his fangs into it, sucking the lingering Grace and the so called quintessence from it, closing his eyes in bliss.

We ignored the happy alien and pocketed the card (literally, right into a Trickster created pocket dimension) and took our time browsing the shop and remembering the location so we could fly here once we were able.

The first bite into one of the sugary sweets was like going back to Heaven the way it used to be. We closed our eyes, savoring it, before scarfing down several more. We even found a particularly sugary one that exponentially boosted our Trickster store with a single piece. We dumped all of that one into a pocket dimension, not caring if the shopkeeper noticed or not.

The harpy alien didn't look as shriveled anymore when we looked at him, and it seemed like he had more feathers now than he had at first and the dull greys of his plumage were now a more vibrant scattering of colors. We continued to ignore him and tossed some more candy into the dimension we decided to call CandyStash.

"Lance!"

We paused and looked up, giving Coran an innocent look as we stuffed a lollipop into our mouth, looking over his shoulder to see the others close behind him. We should have timed how long it took them to find us.

"Get away from that thing," Coran hissed, putting himself between the shopkeeper and I, glaring at the harpy alien with hate filled eyes, "that species are quintessence eaters! They're sneaky little creatures, doing whatever it takes for their next bite of quintessence. Like- like addicts!"

"We survive off quintessence," the shopkeeper rolled his eyes, as if this wasn't the first time somebody had hated on his diet, "and besides! That boy gave me this!"

He waved the feather in the air before quickly sinking his fangs back into it.

"You gave him something?" Allura scowled, staring at us with a look that was some odd mixture of concern and anger. We shrunk under her scrutiny, though now that the sugar was staring to kick in, we wanted to grow larger and scare HER for once. Maybe we would thrust her into a world of darkness, and see how quickly she raises her voice against us then!

A part of us was very determined in their idea of us not doing that. Petty. Thought it was petty. Because it was petty. Was it petty? Yes. No. Yes. No.

We growled, thrusting the loop of a question away.

"Everyone..." we paused, frowning, deciding on our words. Agreement. "Everyone deserves to eat."

Their gazes softened immediately, just like we knew they would. They pitied us for what the Galra had done, and this time that damned pity was an advantage for us. No more argument, and we could get back to eating candy.

"What did you get for it?" the green one asked.

"Pidge!" Allura scolded.

"What?" the green one, Pidge, said, giving Allura an innocent look, "just asking."

We shrugged and opened the pocket dimension, reaching in and pulling out the card. We turned and brandished the card, but team Voltron all looked as if they had just seen a mouse give birth to an elephant. Frowning, we waved the card at them, "we got this."

"What-" Hunk waved aimlessly towards the pocket dimension, "w-what- gah-"

Frowning, we put the card back into the pocket dimension, closing it up and watching them all stare at the now empty air.

"What sort of device did you use to do that?" Coran stepped forward and grabbed our arm, examining it as if he would find some sort of magical watch or something.

"This.. arm."

He stopped and stared at me, "but what did you use to do that?"

"This... arm."

"No, I mean-"

"We used our arm."

"But..." he let go of my arm, looking lost, "how- wait, did you just say ou-?"

"Magic," we said simply, waggling our fingers, "wanna see?"

"You..." his expression twisted, "you can manipulate quintessence?"

"No. Trickster magic."

"Is... is this something Haggar did to you?"

We hesitated. Yes, she had, hadn't she? Because we wouldn't be here if she hadn't forced us into one, her spell soaking from the wards into our skin, stronger and stronger as time had worn on, tying us together closer and closer until we were trapped as one as the spell grew stronger and we grew weaker. We shivered, looked away, "yes."

"Is... what else can you do?"

"Trickster things," we said, "that's why she did not give us food or water. To keep us too weak to use what was keeping us alive."

"Us?"

"Yes."

"So Lance wasn't the only one was experimenting on," Shiro said, "there were others. They're- God, they're probably still in there, still being..."

There were others weren't there? The angels. Poor, poor siblings.

"No."

"They escaped too?" Shiro paused, looking to us, the relief evident on his face.

We looked away, "...no."

Our chest ached, remembering the feel of dead Grace and the smell of burned feathers; what was left of our siblings, the failed experiments or whatever had happened to the angels, too strong of a memory in our mind to lose.

"They didn't make it," we said.

"What else can you do?"

"Trickster things," we said simply.

"Like?" Keith crossed his arms, but his expression didn't read judgemental. Instead it seemed more... concerned? Curious?

We turned and looked around the room, trying to decide, "what do you wish to be done?"

"Lance," Shiro put his hand on our shoulder, "you don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

But being told what to do was a lot easier than two halves of a single one internally struggling to decide on what to do.

"What do you wish to be done?" we repeated.

"Just... give us an example," Allura said after a silent moment, "if... if you want to, of course."

We picked up a piece of candy and stared at it before we placed it on the ground and snapped our fingers, summoning up our replenished Trickster magic. The illusion weaved itself around the candy, and a fluttering bird rose from where the candy had been. It danced around the room on glittering wings, a silver feathered creature that sang and sang with all its heart.

"Whoa," a small smile showed on Hunk's face as the little bird danced down to land on the finger he held out for it, "Lance... Lance, this is.. is... wow..."

It was, wasn't it? We held out our own finger and the beautiful little bird fluttered over to land on it. It was beautiful. It made us sad. It's been so long since any of our illusions were brought alive for something good, something painless, something pure.

We stroked a finger down the bird's back, smiling as its silver feathers danced with gold at our touch.

"Is it.. alive?"

"Perhaps," we said simply, "perhaps."

We snapped our fingers. The pretty little bird cut off its song and turned back into a simple little piece of candy. For some reason, we couldn't bring ourself to eat the candy, and we shoved it into our pocket, hoping it wouldn't melt.

"We're going to need to talk about this- this recent discovery," Allura said, "and we need to talk about it now. Well, once we get to the ship, at least."

"Are you kidding? Lance just made a bird out of a piece of-" Pidge waved her hand around aimlessly, "what even was that? Candy?"

"Yes," we confirmed.

"This isn't- and- you know, I thought nothing could get weirder than running around space in giant lions fighting aliens!" Pidge said, squinting at me as if I might disappear into thin air, "that wasn't- that shouldn't have been possible! But- but it is!"

"Yes," we said simply, unconcerned as we turned and shoved some more candy into CandyStash. The shopkeeper was still focused intently on the feather we had given him; he wasn't dull colored and shriveled anymore: vibrantly colored feathers covered him, his skin and body lean and healthy. The feather must have been quite the feast for the so-called quintessence-eater.

"We still haven't gotten Iveline water," Shiro pointed out.

"No need," we said, closing up CandyStash and heading towards the door as we stuck a sucker into our mouth, "we have what we came for."


	11. Chapter 11

(I don't own Voltron or Supernatural.)

"What is the point of this?" we kicked our feet off the side of the metal table, trying to forget how much the cold metal of the examintaion table felt like the metal of the table we'd been combined on. We fiddled with our hands, reminding ourselves that we weren't trapped by Haggar anymore.

"If we figure out the how, what, and why of what the Galra did to you, maybe we can figure out how to help you," Coran answered, turning on a small handheld device that made a slight whirr sound when he waved it over us.

"Help?" we frowned, "why would you wish to help?"

Hunk put a hand on our shoulder, and we felt his worry through the connection, "why wouldn't we want to help you, Lance? You're our friend."

We gave him a small smile. They were our friends, weren't they? But not to... not to all of us. Did this merged monstrosity we've become deserve to call them friends?

"That's..." Coran tilted the screen before clicking a button on its side and waving it over us again, "... that is odd. Lance, could you step into the Scanner pod? Its the machine that scanned you over when you first got back."

We crinkled our nose but did as asked, stilling our vessel as the machine parts began to move around us the moment Coran turned it on.

"Why is this thing lit up all blue and gold?" Pidge peered at the machine's screen.

"This is different than last time," Hunk added, "last time there was just a bunch of altean symbols."

"Last time I did an overview, but it can do more detailed scans as well," Coran told them, "ah... here we go."

"There's something wrong with his quintessence," Allura frowned, "it's supposed to be blue but there's... is that even quintessence? It doesn't seem like any quintessence that I've ever seen."

"Is it hurting him?" Keith peered over the screen, only moving when Pidge tried to struggle through to see now that they were all crowded around it.

"I'm not sure," Coran frowned at the screen, rubbing his chin, "his quintessence is still a mess, but whatever the gold is must be the cause."

"Do you think it's the magic in the wards? It's... it looks like it's moving."

"I'm not sure, princess," Coran answered Allura, "there's a blackness right here, between his skin and his quintessence. Whatever the gold is, it doesn't seem like it can get out. Perhaps that's what is giving him the power."

"Is quintessence supposed to be able to get out?"

Coran rubbed his chin again, "would any of you be willing to get scanned so I can compare?"

"I'll do it," Keith offered with a nod. He switched places with us, and we watched in awe as the machine's parts began to move, hiding him from our view. We pressed our face against the glass, giving the fiery mortal a small smile when the parts stopped moving and we could see him again.

Coran tapped at the screen, "look. There's no gap between Keith's quintessence and his skin; in fact, a little bit of his quintessence is even resting outside of his skin."

"So quintessence is supposed to radiate out, even if only a little," Allura nodded.

"Does that mean it might hurt him to have it trapped like that?" Keith stepped out of the machine, not even looking at us as we grabbed his hand and smiled at the feel of our fiery mortal. It seemed he'd gotten used to us grabbing his hand, and we were happy he didn't pull his hand away.

"Nobody has ever had their quintessence trapped like his is, or combined with something else," Allura told them, "we have to find out what the gold is."

"It is Grace," we offered.

"Grace?"

Our grip on Keith's hand tightened only slightly as all their eyes turned on us.

"What, exactly, is this so called grace?" Shiro asked, voice gentle.

"Grace is..." we rubbed at the back of our neck, searching for a way to describe it that might make sense for them that the halves of our whole could agree on, "um... it's... Grace."

"Well, that was helpful," Pidge grumbled with a pout, shoving her glasses higher up onto her nose.

We scowled at her, our feathers puffing up and the constant itch of the feathers growing in increasing as our six wings shifted. We rubbed them against the nearest pods and the edge of the metal table we'd been sitting on earlier.

"What can you tell us about it?"

"Angels have it," we told them, "angels and archangels. They do not have quintessence. They have Grace."

Keith's grip tightened. He was holding our hand back? Had that happened before? We weren't sure.

"Angels? Archangels? I've never heard of such a species," Coran said, raising his eyebrows, curiosity edging his tone, "what planet are they from?"

"Earth," we replied, "in this case, it is archangel Grace. Without it, we would have not survived the arena."

"We? Again?" Coran frowned, staring at us oddly, but everyone but Allura and Coran were looking at us oddly.

"Okay, so maybe he hit his head while in there," Pidge grumbled, "so Lance obviously isn't going to be any help."

We let go of Keith's hand and scowled at the short mortal, "it isn't a lie? Haggar combined the quintessence with Grace!"

"Can I speak with you guys for a moment?" Shiro frowned, crossing his arms and giving Pidge a look of disappointment. We'd seen it often enough on Michael to recognize such an expression.

Shiro turned and moved away from us, beckoning the others to follow. When ww moved to follow as well, Shiro told us to remain where we were. We listened, tilting our head, but he was out of range of even our enhanced hearing.

They came back shortly after the span of several minutes, all of them with downcast expressions. Hunk looked the saddest, and it made us want to hug him.

"Sorry, Lance," Pidge said, barely loud enough for us to hear.

Coran walked over to us and clasped a hand on our shoulder, "we'll figure this out my boy. I promise."

We gave him a small smile, comforted by the concern we could feel through the skin contact, "okay, Coran."

It came with no warning. One moment the world was silent, angel radio a distant memory, the next an angel had come into the silence of our world. They did not come quietly. They were screaming. Burning. Like we had, in the beginning.

We cried out and clutched our head, the angel's scream the only thing we could hear. Angel radio had come alive between us, and we wished we could reach out our Grace through the connection and help the angel in any way we could. But we couldn't. Our Grace was trapped within us.

"Lance!" Coran jumped away like he had been burned, but not before we felt the burst of shock and fear that exploded within him.

"What happened!?"

"He just collapsed!"

We tuned them out, struggling to reach the angel, struggling to talk to them. It's been so long since we used angel radio to communicate that it took us a moment to open the connection.

We caught flashes of a familiar room. Haggar's eyes flashed in our vision, looking down at us. The angel strained, burning, wings spasming, tied down to a table. We gasped, clutching our eyes shut, but we had already opened the connection. The vessel the angel had been forced into went still, the angel cried out in agony and despair, dying, grasping for the feel of our Grace, the familiar Grace of another, for comfort in their last moments. They grabbed nothing, our Grace burning against the wards as we strained to reach them. A flash of despair flashed through the angel as they gave one last cry.

And died.

Angel radio went silent once more. Haggar's most recent experiment had failed.

We let out a choked cry of grief, balling up and not moving from where we collapsed.

"Hey," Shiro's hands on our shoulders, grounding us here, "hey, Lance. Lance. Look at me."

We looked up.

He smiled at us, eyes kind, "there you go. You're right here, you're okay."

"No," we clenched our eyes shut, failing to shove the memory of the angel's screams from our mind, "Haggar is trying to recreate the experiment."

"What?" Shiro frowned, "Lance, what are you talking about?"

"Oh," Coran went very, very pale, "the us.. the we... he's... Haggar's created a.. a sort of hive mind, and he's connected to it."

"What?"

"Of course there would be more," Coran reached up, balling his hands in his hair, clenching his eyes shut, "the gold, whatever it is, must connect him to it! The combined strength of all that quintessence of the hive mind must be what gives him that power! That's why he's veen acting oddly! He doesn't believe in the existence of these angel creatures and imagining them for comfort, he's mistaking the hive mind connection as something from his religion, to make up for the confusion of going from one mind to one connected to Haggar's other experiments!"

"Oh my God," Allura covered her mouth, "that's- he's free, but he can still feel and know what's happening to the ones Haggar still has?"

Humans. They fill in their own answers based on what little they can gather. Sometimes this ends up correct. Sometimes, like now, it's mostly off the mark. It seemed like alteans weren't too different.

"I think that's enough examining today," Shiro said, helping us up, "maybe we can make some milkshakes. Would that make you feel better?"

Milkshakes? Both halves of our whole were up for that.

"...Okay."

* * *

After the milkshakes, we agreed to a quick training session for Allura and Coran to get back into the groove of fighting as a team. Shiro hadn't been fond of the suggestion, but after assuring him that we were fine with it, he gave in.

The blue and white armor was oddly familiar, and it held a comforting feel to it. It was easy enough to get on, and besides the blue it matched the armor of the other Paladins.

"Now, teamwork might not be as smooth after so long," Shiro warned us, pulling his helmet on. We followed his lead, pulling our helmet on with fluid familiarity.

"Where's Keith?" Hunk looked around, "he's coming, right? He never misses training. Are we sure Lance is up for this? So soon? Lance, are you sure you're up for this?"

"Up for it," we nodded confidently.

"Well, if you think so," Hunk said, and we jumped as the small device in his hand turned into a large gun, "oh! I should have warned you! I didn't mean to scare you-"

"Fine," we assured him, patting the big guy on the shoulder, "just a bit sudden."

Keith scurried into the training room, clutching a small blue device in his hand. He skidded to a stop beside us and held the device out to us, "sorry, almost forgot about this. I had to get it out of your Lion and it took longer than I thought for Blue to drop her barrier and let me get it."

We took the device, staring at it for a moment before looking back up at him blankly.

His smile faltered, "it's... your bayard? We attempted a rescue mission a while back, but the only thing on the ship was your armor and bayard. I guess they figured there'd be a tracker on it, because they were ready for us... but we got it."

Bayard. We frowned at the thing before tightening our grip on the thing. It flickered blue, and we nearly dropped it as it changed and took on the shape of our Archangel sword.

"Whoa!" Hunk stared at our bayard, "wait, didn't Lance have a gun?"

"How did you DO that!?" Pidge grabbed onto our arm, pulling herself onto her tiptoes and our arm closer so that she could get a better look, "your bayard changed!"

We swiped it through the air a couple times, grinning at how similar it was to our actual blade, despite the color difference.

"We'll start with an easy round," Allura's voice boomed through the room and I looked up to see her smiling down at us from the viewing window.

Hunk groaned, "we need to have a talk on what easy is, Allura. Don't you Alteans have, like, a little motionless dummy for us to get our groove back? No?"

He sighed, looking defeated.

"Alright," he readied himself, "I'm ready."

"Try not to get in the way with that," Keith smirked at us as his bayard shifted into the form of a large sword, "I know you're used to guns but-"

The robot man attacked, sword slashing towards us. Keith ducked out of the way but we caught the enemy sword on the edge of our blade and shoved, causing our opponent to stumble back a step.

So the bayard was durable. Good to know. A lesser blade might have chipped. Too soon to call, of course, as that was the first time it's connected with another. It has yet to prove as useful as our sword.

The robot raised to attack again, but a blast to its back distracted it. We darted in with no regard to our own safety and slashed our bayard through its midsection. It sparked and broke, one half dropping and the other half falling to the ground with a dying screech of metal being parted.

We flicked our wrist by habit, but there was no blood to flick off.

"I think that was our quickest time yet!" Pidge pumped her fist in the air, giving Keith a smug smirk, "looks like Lance has caught onto swords pretty quickly, Keith!"

Keith rolled his eyes before seeming to catch himself as he cast us a look of confusion, as if he'd been expecting us to comment. We did not, and he hid his disappointment well as he braced himself for the next training level, "yeah, I- I guess so."

"Be careful, Lance," Shiro advised, "a move like that could have gotten you hurt. We're a team. This isn't something you have to do alone."

We nodded his way. Of course not. We were never alone.

Two robots dropped down this time. We grinned and braced ourselves.

We charged forward, but had to windmill as the green bayard shot past us. We tripped over it despite our attempts to stop, and the bayard missed its target as we collapsed on it, barely noticing the current that shot through our vessel and made its limbs twitch.

"Lance!" Pidge shrieked, "watch it!"

"Caught on pretty quickly, huh, Pidge?" Keith laughed, leaping over us and blocking the sword that had been about to cut into us.

We got our feet back beneath us and turned, lifting our sword in time to catch the second robot's strike. We took a step back, but found ourselves running our back into Keith's with a slight thump as our armor bumped against each other.

Something clicked. We've done this before, with these mortals. We've done this before. We know how they worked. We could do this teamwork thing.

We grinned, a wild smile, bigger than any we've managed since getting our mouth freed.

We could do this.

"Keep up, mullet!" we challenged, smirking as we glanced over our shoulder.

"Just try not to trip up again, sharpshooter," Keith shot back, grin appearing on his face.

"Slip up? Hello! Grace in a little human shaped package!" we scoffed, parrying a strike and shoving the robot gladiator back.

Shiro took the opening we had given him and sliced the gladiator in half with his metal hand while Keith ducked and kicked his gladiator's feet out from beneath it, slamming the hilt of his sword into its face and crumpling the metal. The gladiators were down.

"Good work out there, Paladins!" Allura cheered, "upping the difficulty!"

The other Paladins all grinned at us.

"What?" we questioned.

"Mullet," Hunk said, "you called him mullet."

And then the gladiators dropped down and Team Voltron moved forward as a team once more.


	12. Chapter 12

(I don't own Voltron or Supernatural. Sorry this took so long! I'm good at literal juggling, but with the transition from school to college -graduating tomorrow!- I'm not so good at metaphoricak juggling...)

We awoke to a blaring noise, piercing our enhanced hearing and drumming through our skull. We scrambled out of bed, getting our wings tangled as we squirmed against the blankets we'd wrapped ourselves in.

Note to self: no more blankets.

We flopped onto the floor with a grunt and finally managed to untangle ourselves. Our wings itched from the feathers coming in, and we rubbed them against the walls in a futile attempt to ease it. A miserable morning indeed.

We pulled a candy from CandyStash and shoved into our mouth before we snapped our fingers and dressed ourself in our armor the Trickster way instead of the human way of pulling them on.

Unfortunately, we never learned how to teleport with Trickster magic, and so, unlike getting dressed, we had to get to the Bridge the old fashioned way. With our feet.

We took off, accompanied by the blaring of the alarms, and reached the others in no time on the bridge, though they were all already there. Allura was already at the controls, brow furrowed; she opened her mouth to say something only to cut off as something hit the Castle, almost knocking us off our feet.

"We need the lions!" Allura told us, "we need Voltron!"

"Can we even form Voltron?" Pidge did her best not to look our way, but her eyes still darted towards us before darting away.

"We might have to," Shiro said, already pulling on his helmet, "everyone get to your lions!"

"Wait," we turned in a circle as the other Paladins darted in opposite directions, "Allura?"

"We're being attacked!" the princess grimaced as the Castle shook as something hit it, "I don't know how the galara found us, but we need Voltron, now!"

We nodded. Get to the lion. Simple enough. We copied the other Paladins, sliding down into the tube as if we'd done it before hundreds of times.

We have.

Have we?

Blue greeted us with a purr as we slid into the seat. The instant our hands were wrapped around the handles to pilot, we spread our Grace out throughout the lion.

We flicked our metal tail as we settled in, opening our mouth and letting out a roar as another blast shook the Castle. We were out of the Hangar in less than a heartbeat, blasting out to join our pride in the empty void that was space.

Blue roared and rose up, skimming along our consciousness.

No, we agreed. It wasn't empty, was it?

Galaxies swirled and twisted through the darkness, a churning mix of colors, with flaming stars lighting up the spaces inbetween. Looking through the eyes of Blue instead of the uncaring eyes of an ageless archangel showed us that it wasn't as empty as we had decided.

We paused to take it in, but the Paladins called for us and so we turned our focus away and swooped into the fight. We slammed into a group of Galra scouting ships that were trailing Green and clawed through the ones that weren't wrecked by the collision.

"Thanks, Lance!"

We ignored Pidge's voice and propelled ourselves forward, towards the largest of the ships. Black darted into our way, herding us back towards the others.

"We're a team, Lance," Shiro's voice echoed from the comm within our metal body, "don't go getting yourself in unnecessary danger."

Don't go getting yourself caught, he meant. We growled and flicked our tail, grabbing onto a fighter that flew past too close. We ripped it in half, the galra sentry within smaller than one of our claws. We crunched it between our claws like it was nothing more than a gnat.

Blasts pierced our metal side, but Red darted past, tearing through them.

How... how had we- no, it wasn't we at the time it was m- how- caught how-?

We growled and shook our head, Blue purring in an attempt to comfort us.

A mission. It had gone wrong...

And Lucifer stabbing us- no, please, it wasn't us it was m-, how-? That.. that's when we died, wasn't it? We had been so sure, but questioning it just made us feel a feeling of wrong.

...Asmodeus...

Wait, Michael-

"Lance! Look out!"

The blast hit us square in the face, throwing us back, but we quickly powered up our jets and stopped ourselves from going farther. Whatever we had been about to remember had been shoved back; we had bigger things to worry about.

Larger ships were falling in, and so were more fighters. We shook our metal head and opened our mouth, blasting them right back; our attacker didn't fare as well as we had at shaking off the hit. We blasted through the wreckage, tearing into their ranks, working our way back to the other lions. We fell in, a pride fighting against our enemies.

"I-" Shiro cut off and Black blasted a couple fighters, "I hate to do this so soon, but I don't we see what else we can do with so many of them. Form Voltron!"

Something pulled at us. Blue roared in our head. We let the feeling take us and fell into formation; the feeling grew stronger, and stronger, and the other lions began to change around us. A feeling of being united came over us, and we couldn't help but grin as we felt our Grace spreading out further than this metal body-

It felt like our very Grace had caught on fire- no, it felt as if our blood was boiling in our veins and our Grace had been set on fire with holy oil. We screamed, and it came out as a roar from our metal body, and the feeling broke as we retreated back into the Blue lion. The Voltron pride smacked against each other, lions clashing against each other in sparks of metal, the feeling gone.

"What just happened!?"

"What's going on!?"

"Why couldn't we form Voltron!?"

The fighters seemed to get a new surge of confidence. They fell in against us more recklessly than before; I heard my teammates yelling as the blasts hit their lions, and Blue cried out in my mind with a pained roar as dozens of blasts smacked into our metal hide, registering as burning hits against our body.

"Lance.." Shiro hesitated, as if what he had to say was painful, "..Lance, go back to the Castle."

"Shiro," Hunk spoke up, "we can do this, maybe we just need to try again."

We wanted to try again, too. Maybe we had spread our Grace out before the connection between all the lions had formed. Maybe it had triggered the wards to choke us back down. Maybe-

"We don't have time for maybes, Hunk," Shiro said, "Lance, get the Blue lion to Allura. Coran can fly the Castle."

"But.. but we want to help!"

"Getting the Blue lion to Allura is how you can help," Shiro told us, "we need Voltron."

"Yes, sir," we grumbled, turning ourselves around. The other lions moved to cover our escape.

The instant we were inside the Hangar, we forced ourself back into our tiny vessel. We exited the lion with a scowl on our face, not even acknowledging Allura's presence as we stormed past her.

"Lance-"

"What?" we scowled, turning our glare on her.

"I might need your bayard out there.." she looked away and pulled her helmet on.

We huffed and pulled the weapon free. She caught it when we tossed it to her.

She sighed and met our gaze, turmoil on her face, "Lance, I-"

"Allura!" we picked up the sound of Shiro yelling over the comm, "we need you out here!"

Whatever she had been about to say was forgotten and she hurried into Blue's waiting mouth. Blue didn't even show any signs of a goodbye as she pulled from our mind to focus on Allura.

We stormed out of the Hangar, our mind feeling a bit emptier than before without Blue's comforting presence, the lights we passed flickering wildly as we stomped past them. Already, the spell was greedily gaining a better hold, fixing the damage Blue had caused it from her constant chipping away at it. Without Blue there, it faced no opposition from us; we couldn't touch it, even with it trapped inside with the very grace it kept trapped. Every time we tried, our Grace slipped off of it like trying to grab water. We turned our focus back to the problem at hand, ignoring the recovering spell.

We were out of the fight. Now what? We were useless!

Better to avoid danger anyways, Allura can do better out there. They need Voltron. But we can help just as much! We can be out there, we can help! We're not useless! But it's better like this, we can try to help form Voltron later when nothing is at stake; Shiro's only doing what he has to do. There's a reason we were never leaders.

We growled and grabbed our head, forcing our churning halves to settle. But neither could agree. Time to focus on something else.

We paced the hall, not wanting to enter the Bridge only to see Coran give us a pity look or try to say some sort of crappy thing that's supposed to make us feel better. Anger simmering beneath our skin, we ignored our sudden urge for candy and turned to punch the wall.

We turned too sharply and accidentally knocked one of our wings against the wall, halting us as we stopped and cried out at the sting. Scowling, we stepped away from the wall, rubbing the sore spot.

Wings.

We pulled it closer and ran our hands along the feathers. Our wings were still in tatters, but if the Castle pulled just close enough, maybe we could manage a glide onto one of the Galra ships. Besides, it wasn't like we could fall in space.

We pulled a piece of candy from CandyStash and popped it into our mouth, rolling our shoulders and stretching out our wings as we closed our eyes to savor the recharge. Yes, we can manage a simple glide, can't we? Chickens glide all the time. Even some snakes glide, and they don't have wings at all. And penguins seem to fly through the water when they swim. How different would it be to fly through space?

We spread our wings and held out our hand as we focused our Grace. It burned as it rose within us and scraped against the wards, but we didn't need to force it outside of our body. We just needed it long enough to phase through.

Not sure of how long we could hold it for, we let our Grace surge against our skin. It burned, but then we were through the Castle wall and in space and we could let it fall.

We stared at the battle for a moment before flapping our wings; instead of being propelled forward like we had expected, we stayed in place.

Space is a vacuum. When had we learned that? It would have been useful to remember it before this.

We let the warmth of visibility flood through our wings and we flared them, sending a pulse of our Grace through the limbs. They flashed like a mirror catching the sun. We let visibility fall and waited, then tried again. Nothing. One more time.

One of the fighters swerved from the fight, having obviously seen the glare flashing off their windshield. Does it still count as a windshield if it isn't a car? Either way, it was coming this way, speeding up as it made out what we were, but we had already let our Trickster magic roll over us.

The fighter scooped us up without hesitation, and once the latch had slid shut and we were inside, the sentry barely looked at us. The robot was focused on its task of returning to the fight now that it had saved what it saw as a Galra soldier.

We pulled off our helmet and flicked our new purple ears as we looked at what was our Paladin helmet. We had changed our armor to match that of the Galra, and so far it seemed we had the sentry fooled.

"Pull back to the ship," we ordered, our voice gruff like the voices of the Galra captains back from our time as Haggar's monster.

The sentry didn't question us, pulling away from the fight. We caught a glimpse of a multicolored humanoid figure tearing through the fighters with a large red sword before the robot turned the fighter around.

Voltron.

We shook the word from our mind and scowled. Voltron. Who needs them? We'd show them. We were useful. We could get things done. They'll see.

The large ship we had seen while in Blue grew larger in our vision as the fighter pulled in. The fighter docked, but the sentry didn't move from the pilot seat.

"Wait for us," we ordered it, "no matter what happens, remain here, and wait."

The sentry gave a nod.

When we come back for the fighter, the sentry should be able to pilot us close enough to the Castle for us to shift through; after dispatching the sentry, of course. If we played our cards right, we'd get this done and get back before team Voltron even knew we had been gone.

This wasn't a good idea.

We shoved the idea down. Of course this was a good idea. This was for the good of the team! This would keep Voltron safe! Isn't that what we want?

Even so, our gut churned at the idea.

We stepped out of the fighter and reached for our bayard almost out of habit. But we had given it to Allura, and our hand closed around only air. Scowling, we tossed our helmet in through the open door of the fighter before motioning to the sentry to close the door. It slid shut soundlessly.

It was almost laughable how easily we walked further into the ship. Galra and sentries barely spared us a glance as we walked down the hall with purpose and confidence in our every step. When we realized we had no clue where we were going, we grabbed a sentry by the neck and pulled it towards us.

"Directions to the captain," we ordered it. It gave it to us and we released it.

We made our way to the captain's location, but our way was blocked by a door that didn't open when we neared. It would, of course, be child's play to rip our way through with our recovering strength, but that would destroy our entire point of keeping on the down low.

"Don't you have a post to get to?" a voice scolded us. We turned, cursing ourself for closing our wings against our back instead of keeping them spread out.

"Of course, sir," we told the galra soldier; we smiled sheepishly and rubbed our neck, "we, uh, we forgot how to get through the door."

Crap. Drop the we. We have to say I and me for this even if we were a we.

The galra didn't look impressed. He shouldered past us to the door and leaned down; it scanned his eyes and the door opened.

"Thank you," we gave him a grateful smile, "I would have been in so much trouble if the captain had seen that I wasn't at my post."

The galra stared at us, not returning our smile, "what rank are you?"

"Rank?" we asked, "well, I'm nobody important, sir."

"I see," he stared us down, "then why is your armor lit up in the general design?"

"What?" we looked down at our armor, "oh, uh, well w- I lost my armor, sir. Thankfully, one of the generals helped and-"

"Who are you with?"

"What?"

"Whose armor did you steal?"

Aw, quiznak.

"Who are you with?" he repeated, lifting his blaster and aiming it at us, "Blade of Marmora? Tell me what I need to know and maybe I'll kill you instead of sending you to Haggar like any other traitor to the empire."

Aw, well, at least we tried. Let the fun begin.

"Send us to Haggar, will you?" we laughed, a dark sound that dripped from our mouth like magma as we walked forward. We let our illusion fall as we approached, our Trickster magic itching beneath our skin and urging us on the need for violence. How dare he threaten us, how dare he even think of sending us back to that witch! Yes! Time for justice! Time for vengeance!

Justice.

The galra soldier stared at us in horror as our illusions twisted reality. Our shadow grew long and mangled, like that of a monster. We laughed in our true voice, and the galra's sensitive ears bled as he cried out and flinched away.

"Monster of the arena," he said, his words a panicked hiss as he stepped backwards, grip tightening on the blaster he was pointing at us.

We grinned, our Trickster magic twisting our teeth into fangs.

The galra was trembling. Another step brought us closer. With a stuttered gasp, his finger squeezed the trigger.

The blast from his blaster tore through our shoulder. We giggled and kept walking towards him, our arm limp as our Grace began to fix the damage, "naughty, naughty! Should have come with a special blaster."

"No," he said, and his fear permeated the hall so heavily it seemed to soak into our skin, "no! Stay back!" He fired again. We kept going. Our Grace finished with our arm and set to work on the new damage to our vessel.

The galra turned and bolted.

We laughed and snapped, popping the sucker we materialized into our mouth before we trailed our fingers across the wall, working our Trickster magic.

"You wanted a monster!" we laughed as two dark shapes dripped down the wall as dark liquid that solidified when they hit the ground. The two wolf-like beasts looked like living shadows, with the darkness of them dripping as if they weren't quite solid yet. Two raptor like muzzles opened as the beasts' nostrils flared.

They let out piercing shrieks and lunged forward, each of the two loping forward on their four mishapen legs. We heard the galra soldier scream as they fell upon him, and within moments the screams were cut and they wandered back with blood on their lips. We patted their heads and smiled.

"Our fun isn't done yet," we promised them.

They both licked their lips.

"The galra wanted a monster," we giggled before biting down on our sucker with a satisfying crunch. Our Trickster magic sang through us, pleased with these events, "they've gotten it. They've gotten it! Come on, my dears, let us GIVE THEM THEIR MONSTER!"

They screeched and loped forward, filling the halls with their voiceless screams, desperate with their need to taste the blood of our enemies.

We followed, stepping lightly as we marched through the blood that pooled on the floors and the bodies and limbs that littered the halls and rooms, the lights flickering overhead. We spread our tattered wings wide, and the lights blew as we passed them.

Inside we laughed at it all, enjoying this.

Inside we screamed, terrified by this.

One half of us created things like the silver-golden, singing bird. The other half created things like the screaming, bloodthirsty shadow beasts.

Half of us didn't understand the need for such violence. The other knew that violence was the only way to solve this.

But half said it wasn't necessary, that there were other ways than this.

But it wasn't loud enough.

The end of the galra on this ship didn't come with a bang or a flash, but with one scream at a time.

(Find me on tumblr under the same name I use here.

Want to see what the shadowbeasts look like? Go to my tumblr and search my profile for the tags

#shadowbeast

#i swear im going to update soon

#probably

#im working on it


	13. Chapter 13

(I don't own Voltron or Supernatural.

Remember the bus incident I talked about in the disclaimer of an earlier chapter? Well, while proofreading and editing this chapter, in response to being asked about dishes, said to my mother without looking up, 'oh, yeah. We unloaded the dishwasher and loaded it back up again and started the wash.'

She stared at me for a long moment then said 'who's we?'

I swear to God, writing this story is messing up my first person writing and speaking. Working on chapter for my other story, didn't realize until editing that I had used we, us, and our instead I, me, and my.

So what happened last chapter? Oh, right, Gance attacked that ship. Uh, continue on, then, and sorry about the wait. Have had absolutely zero free time between moving house with family and getting ready for moving onto college campus in August. Sorry about the wait, and I hope this chapter has enough quality and quantity to make up for it. Now, without furtuer ado ~)

The lights flickered between on and off, making our head hurt with the constant switching of our eyes instantly adjusting. We paused, resting our hands on the terminal as we pushed through the throbbing in our head and tried to figure out how to get into the terminal. Maybe we'd get lucky, find something on what Haggar had done to us and- idiot, why would that information be here?

"Shhh," we growled, rubbing our temples, finding ourselves suddenly thankful for the way the spell forced our parts to stay as a whole. It hurts when we can't agree, but the spell makes us one.

Please, no, don't want to be one-

The spell squashed that opinion and pushed it away. Fighting it just makes our head hurt, and we can't fight the spell anyway, so we let it do its thing without a struggle. Time to focus on the terminal. It probably doesn't have anything on Haggar's experiments, but there has to be something worthwhile in there. Right? Pidge would totally have this done by now if she was here. But she's not here. This is OUR job. Not Voltron's.

Something hissed, catching our attention. We snapped our head up, staring at the Shadowbeast that had made the noise. The creatures had both been cleaning themselves, not unlike a cat or dog might, but now they were both stumbling onto their uneven legs, both of them sniffing at the air and running their tongues across their muzzles.

There was somebody on the ship. Had we missed one? No. No, we couldn't have. The shadowbeasts tore everyone apart, so who-?

One of the shadowbeasts flicked an ear and inched forwards towards the doorway. We leaned forward and brushed our fingers across its nose as we closed our eyes. The darkness behind our eyelids faded, changing until the back of our eyelids was alight with what our monster saw.

"Show us," we whispered, voice as quiet as a hiss and as soft as a whispered promise. A growl rumbled through the shadowbeast and it loped forward, followed by its sibling. The bobbing of its vision from its odd gait almost made us dizzy, but we grit our teeth and refused to let the found footage feel of the shadowbeast's vision annoy us. The creature moved quickly through the halls, melting right through any that got in its way. It was odd, seeing what it saw in those moments as it slipped through the wall; we'd see the wall in front of us and then the shadowbeast would seem to dissolve, squeezing its atoms through the atoms that made up the wall and forming in inky darkness on the other side, vision moving from every part of it to the eyes once they reformed.

When they reached the intruders, the living things on a ship handed to the dead, we grit our teeth and shot an urge for stealth through our link with the creatures. The shadowbeasts who shared its eyes with us slunk back, melting into the shadows with its sibling, snapping at its sibling when it jostled into it. The intruders didn't seem to notice, fortunately.

The black paladin pulled his helmet off, brushing his hand through his hair and fixing the white lock of hair that had plastered to his head. Shiro cast his eyes around the room, expression carefully neutral as he surveyed the carnage. He pulled his helmet back on, already activating his comm, "guys, stay in your lions."

The order was too late. The green paladin was already beside him, hands raised to her helmet, only stopped from covering her mouth by the helmet she was wearing. Her eyes were wide, horrified, and a burst of shame and guilt shot through us. It was impossible to shake away.

Pidge wasn't the only one; the other paladins were already in, seeing the worst of it with their own eyes. Hopefully they hadn't spotted the sentry holding our escape vehicle for us. Or maybe they had found it, we figured, as Allura followed the paladins in and tossed a still sparking robotic arm on the ground. So much for that.

The shadowbeasts felt our distress. The one whose eyes we were looking out of snarled, and Team Voltron all jumped, already activating their bayards.

"Shiro, what do we do?" Hunk's voice shook, despite his attempts to cover his fear. He looked green, and a part of us was surprised he hadn't- nope, he'd just blanched and pulled his helmet off, puking in the corner. The tight feeling of guilt and shame grew heavier in our chest.

"Should we check for survivors?" Allura whispered; through the shadowbeast's senses, we could hear the heavy pounding of their hearts. The shadowbeasts both let their heartbeats match, excited by the idea of new prey.

Alarm shot through us as one of them inched forward, slithering in shadow form through the shadows to lurk behind the paladins, its heart forming into a physical, pounding organ as it solidified. Its sibling followed, crouching down, ready to pounce as it finished solidifying.

No. No, please, no.

The shadowbeasts hesitated.

Not them. Not them. We're a monster; we're a monster; but we'll never hurt them. We can't. Please, we can't.

There was no arguing. Only the trickster magic itched for bloodshed, but there was no justice to be found in hurting our allies.

Our friends.

Both shadowbeasts whined through the link, but we'd tightened our grip on our creations. They liquefied back into shadow form, melting back into the shadows. We urged them to come back. Once we were sure they were truly headed back towards us, we released our hold and opened our eyes. We closed them again, finding blackness in place of the shadowbeast's vision, before opening them again. It was kind of like whiplash, coming back to ourselves.

The shadowbeasts were not away long, already solidifying as they dripped through the walls and onto the ground. A single order, and they both slipped into our shadow, clinging to it and hiding within it. Even without seeing them, we could still feel their eyes on us. Through the link, we knew that they felt bad, knowing the ones they had seen as prey were seen as, as they would see it, packmates. They felt guilty. We dipped our wings, brushing them against the floor where our shadow was cast, and sent a tinge of comfort through the mental link we held with our creations.

We felt guilty. We had wanted monsters; we had created monsters. Their natures were our fault, not theirs. They were like us, monstrosities who hadn't asked for what they'd been given, or for what they'd done.

We felt terrible. Were we any better than Haggar for this?

Of course we are better than that hag!

The thought rushed through our mind like a roar, almost strong enough to pull us apart but not strong enough to break through.

We are nothing like Haggar! The shadowbeasts are nothing but living illusions, given life thanks to us! They should be thankful for being alive, and we should be proud of what we have created. Was it innocents we had killed!? NO! This is war! We'd do best to get used to it, as there was no running from this one. No more running. How could we run away in space? Where would we go? We're stuck in this war, and by our Father, we're going to win it. Haggar will suffer.

But do two wrongs make a right?

We growled, surprising ourselves with the sound.

Yes.

Sometimes there's no other choice but to face a wrong with a wrong, and hope to Father that you'll get a right.

Enough. No more. Forget this topic. Move on. Ignore the turmoil. Find agreement.

The spell was helpful in this. We didn't bother trying to stop it as it treated the turmoil by weaving our parts tighter together. We were not a perfect one, a perfect I, but the spell no longer faced opposition. It could continue doing what it had been cast to do, now that there wasn't a giant blue lion trying to pull it apart. Already, the ache caused by the disagreement was beginning to fade. We knew the spell was to blame for this whole problem in the first place, and Haggar was to blame for the spell, but we also couldn't help but be internally grateful that the spell made the pain of disagreement cease.

We could hear their footsteps, sloshing through the blood, and we hoped that the lighting wasn't well enough for them to see all that well. We peeked our head out the doorway, looking their way. They were all silent, hearts pounding, and we barely ducked back into the room in time to escape a wandering flashlight beam. Our own heart was beginning to pound as we slipped farther into the room, looking for an escape as they came nearer.

There. There were vents, possibly to transfer oxygen throughout the ship. Either way, we jumped, flapping our wings to give ourselves enough of a boost to reach it. We focused our Grace, gritting our teeth and powering through the pain long enough to phase through the vent cover; it was a relief to let our Grace sink back down away from the wards once we were in. Just in time, too, as the Paladins made their way through the doorway just as we got comfortable. We froze, afraid of making any noise that might give away our position.

"It's not as bad in here," Keith said, breaking the silence as he scouted out the room to ensure its safety, "they must have run to the halls when-"

He cut off at the look on Pidge and Hunk's faces.

"I mean... uh.. nevermind," Keith grumbled.

"Pidge, can you hack into this?" Shiro asked, stepping towards the terminal we had been fretting over what seemed like ages ago, but may have been for only minutes in actuality.

The green paladin stepped over, "finally. Something not covered in blood. I'll... I'll see what I can do. Maybe I can even access the cameras, and we can find out what happened here."

Her hands hesitated over the terminal though. Almost as if he had Grace of his own to sense her feelings, Shiro put a comforting hand on her shoulder, "I can watch them, to find out. I won't put you guys through that."

"You shouldn't have to watch them either," Allura said, "I'll watch them."

"You know, sometimes things are too scary for anybody to watch?" Hunk spoke up, rubbing his neck as he eyed the doorway as if something would jump out at him, "I mean, I'm totally going to be having nightmares for awhile."

We winced at the idea. We never wanted to hurt them! Only the enemy. Only the enemy. Not our friends.

Wrong. It was wrong what we did. Slaughtering our enemy like this? It was wrong.

The spell bit at the idea. We held onto it for a moment longer before letting it go. Fighting the spell wasn't worth the effort.

Every war has casualties.

This was something we knew too well. How many of our siblings have met their end throughout the centuries of this never ending war? How many knew nothing but the war, but being a soldier? We take out the Galra -if we find an end to this war- then the Paladins get to go home. Our friends get to go home. War over.

They would have the chance for peace that we never will.

That you never will! There's still a chance for me! Please-!

We choked on it, on the sudden throbbing in our head and the spike of pain that shot through us like electricity. We turned our eyes away, clenching them tightly shut as we grit our teeth through the pain. The spell shoved us back together, stabbing at the strong emotion that had managed to tear through it. We felt sick. Physically or emotionally, we weren't too sure.

We turned our eyes back to look through the vent cover. Pidge was working on the terminal, trying to hack in with aid from Shiro.

"Here's the recordings," Pidge announced, looking proud of herself but hesitating when her finger lingered over the records for the security camera, "should I download them? Maybe we can write a program to scan through it and screenshot the cause?"

We can't let them get those tapes.

We took a deep breath, despite our lack of a need for breathing as we turned our gaze onto the terminal. Our eyes narrowed as we concentrated, lifting up one hand.

We snapped our fingers.

Pidge cursed and leaped away as the terminal sent out a of couple sparks, red error messages filling the screen before the entire thing spat out a puff of smoke and went black with a pitiful drying whirr. Pidge stepped forward and hit the thing, but it didn't start back up.

"There could have been so much on there!" Pidge spat at the thing, "it was perfectly fine just a second ago!"

"It's alright, Pidge," Allura assured the small human, but she looked relieved to be able to leave, as they all did, "let's just.. let's just go."

"Yeah," Hunk agreed, a tremble running through him as he glanced around at the room, "this place is giving me major heebie jeebies."

"Just.. just keep your eyes up," Shiro told them, "let's get back to the lions."

We retreated from the cover, in case one of them looked up, and didn't dare start breathing again until we were sure that they were gone. But once they had left, we couldn't help but bite back a curse as realization shot through us. Allura had most likely dispatched the sentry who had flown us here in the first place, and we didn't even know where to start trying to fly an alien spaceship. Our ride back to the Castle was walking out the door.

We crawled forward and peered through the vent again; the room was empty, but we could still hear their footsteps outside the door. We bit our lip at the burn as we brought our Grace up as much as we could and let ourselves fall intangibly through the vent. The second our feet touched the ground, we wrapped our wings around ourselves as much as we could. They itched, and we had to stop ourselves from giving up the cover and scratching them on the walls, which until now had been a subconscious action we'd allowed.

They were still a mess, but enough feathers had started growing back in that we were able to successfully make ourselves invisible. Now for the hard part.

We crept forward, inching out into the hall. We weren't sure if it was the mortal part of us, the immortal part, or both at once, but our stomach churned and a heavy lump had made itself right at home in our throat. Our heart was beating so fast that our body felt numb and the lump grew heavier at the worry that they might hear the frantic pounding of our heart as we shuffled forward and did our best to catch up.

We got onto the Blue Lion without much hassle, hunkering down out of the way unbeknownst to Allura. Blue purred and prodded at our mind, but we gave her presence a sharp mental jab and blocked her out. Her purrs ceased and she shrunk away, as if confused by the fact that we were casting her away.

CUB?

We ignored her.

PALADIN?

No. You don't need us. Nobody needs us.

We blocked her completely, until we barely felt her push as a brush against our mental blockade. The spell seemed almost smug at this turn of events, if the way we could feel it tighten its hold on us meant anything, but spells do not have sentience so we doubt it really felt smug.

We barely noticed the Blue Lion had landed in the Hangar until we had to flatten against the wall as Allura moved past us. We followed quickly after her, skirting around her without bumping into her, and hurried towards our room.

The second we were out of their sight and out of view of a camera, we relaxed our wings and allowed ourselves to become visible again. We raced into our room when we reached it, and stood in the room for a moment to calm down; we took deep breaths, desperately trying to calm our racing heartbeat as we tore off our blood covered armor and stuffed it all into our closet.

We did it. A whole ship of Galra and we not only destroyed them, but we snuck out, got there, took them out, and got back without anybody realizing that we had even left.

We let out a laugh, but it came out sounding much more bitter than we had expected. The euphoria was fading now, and the horror at what we had done was setting in.

Our shadowbeasts left our shadow and solidified, whining as they curled up next to us where we had collapsed with our back against our bed, both settling down with their heads in our lap. The only sound was the two of them both lightly flopping their tails against the ground in a soft wag, their ears back as they felt our guilt.

We rested a hand on each of their heads, surprised at how soft they were for things created to be monsters.

"Sorry," we whispered, "sorrry."

The one curled up against our left whined while the one on our right shifted and licked our hand. They radiated their love for us towards us, and we felt a little bit better as we pet them despite the inky darkness that dripped and dissipated from their wavering forms.

"Lo siento," we told them.

We leaned our head back against our bed and closed our eyes, but the look on the Paladins' faces when they had seen the death and destruction refused to be unglued from the back of our eyelids.

A shrill beep sounded throughout the room, catching our attention. We opened our eyes and frowned, casting our eyes around our room; unhindered and uncaring, the beep sounded again.

One of the shadowbeasts let out a huff of air that may have been an attempt at a bark before it moved forward, bouncing up to its feet and diving under the bed. It's feet kicked clumsily against the ground as it shot under like a dog trying to retrieve a wayward ball, but just as suddenly it backpedaled and tumbled out from under our bed. It let out the closest a growl can come to sounding pleased before it flopped across our lap and dropped a slobbery device into our hands just in time for it to beep; a red light flashed on the end of the device.

"Eww," we couldn't help but smile before we tilted our head at the device and wiped it off on the fur of the other shadowbeast, much to its grumbled displeasure. We tapped one of the two buttons that were flashing on the screen and the flashing ceased, instantly replaced by a furry face peering through the screen.

We let out a bird-like squawk as we flared our wings and whipped the device across the room. Our room wasn't overly large, so it didn't go far. The beeping had stopped, but now a new sound was coming out of it.

"Oh! Oh, I scared him!" a familiar voice cried out over the device, sounding distraught.

We crept forward carefully, peering down at the device.

An odd creature blinked back at us. Or winked. It had one eye, the spot where the other should be a mangled mess of scar tissue, and looked like one of those Furret pokémon from the Pokémon series as far as size and body form went. That's where the comparisons stopped. Its muzzle was cat-like, its ears large like a fox, and its pelt a mottled mix of purples and blues. The tip of its fluffy tail flicked as its whiskers twitched.

We plopped down and picked up the device, staring right back at the thing.

"Oh, look at you," the creature flicked its ears quickly, forward, back, and forward again, "I'm sorry if I frightened you, little one."

Our heart nearly stopped as we placed the voice. Without really thinking about it, we let out a happy chirp, the sort we used to do back when we couldn't speak, and then we spoke, huge grin on our face, "Ajelnae!"

Ajelnae flicked her ears again. This time we realized it must be her species way of smiling, though we weren't too sure because at the sound of our voice she sniffed and pawed gently at her eyes.

"I see you're doing better. I can't even begin to tell you how happy I am to see that," Ajelnae told us, "and to hear your voice, why.."

She flicked her ears- er, smiled- and wiped at her eyes again.

"Why, I'm tearing up like a new mekla," Ajelnae told us, though we had no clue what a mekla was, "to see you happy, and talking, after the state I first met you in.. well, it may as well be a miracle. I.. you know, little one, I never even managed to get your name."

We opened our mouth to answer but didn't know what to say: Lance? Gabriel?

A nameless monster?

"Gance," we decided, the word popping into our mind as if some foreign entity had thought it up, saving us from such a title as monster.

Gance.

We like it.

(Author Note- You know who you are ;) )

"Gance," Ajelnae said, "what a beautiful, beautiful name."

"Ah-jell-nay," we said back, "yours is fun to say."

Ajelnae smiled again and opened her mouth to speak, but there was shouting in the background.

"Oh, don't mind that," Ajelnae's nose twitched, "just some more wounded."

"Wounded?"

"Just some Aline."

"Everything all right?"

For a moment, Ajelnae's entire expression seemed to droop, but then she quickly smiled, ears flicking quickly, "perfectly fine, little one. Griff's trying to get back into his position; he was a pow, see, and now that he's back he's trying to get reinstated as a Draconia."

We had no idea what the hell draconia meant, "wish him luck on our behalf."

Her drooping expression shifted into a lighter one, "speaking of Team Voltron, how did the reunion go?"

"Good… it.. it went good."

She smiled, "I'm glad. Are things going alright? Are things better now?"

"Yes," we assured her as we tilted the device to ensure that she didn't see the shadowbeasts, "everything is fine."

There was a knock on our door, and the shadowbeasts looked up, alert, before leaping up and diving into our shadow. Their transition was quicker than last time, as if they were beginning to get the hang of it.

"Lance?" a voice was barely audible, the speaker's voice cracking and stammering, "can… c-can I come… can I come in?"

"Lance? I thought you said Gance," Ajelnae blinked, head tilting before she smiled, ears flicking quickly as she let out a sharp laugh, "maybe my ears are not as sharp as I've thought they were. My apologies, little one. Is that one of your friends?"

"Hunk," we nodded, worry clogging up our throat. We grinded our teeth from the rising stress within us, barely noticing the lack of pressure on one in the back that dipped into the gap that had been left behind by the tooth we had lost in our first fight, back when we were two seperate beings in one body.

"I should let you go, then," Ajelnae's ears drooped, "remember to call us, if you can. I know you must be busy, but it's not the same after having spent so long looking after you, little one. Even with Griff beside me, we both miss you."

The smallest of smiles tilted the corners of our lips up.

"I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to!" Ajelnae spoke up quickly, "but Griff is still out there while I'm helping here, and I know he would want to talk to you- oh, but I don't want to bother you."

We laughed at the familiarity of Ajelnae's frantic rambles, "it's fine, Ajelnae. We cannot thank you and the others enough for what you've done for us."

Ajelnae's whiskers twitched and her ears flicked back and forth rapidly in what probably counted for a beaming, relieved grin. At least we hoped that's what it meant. "Oh, I just wish I could leap through this screen and give you a big hug, little one! Go, now, you shouldn't keep your friend waiting on my account."

We gave her a toothless smile, "thanks for calling, Ajelnae. Perhaps Team Voltron can be persuaded to visit sometime."

Alarm flashed across her entire body, fur puffing up, "oh no! You don't need to take time out of such important business just to visit Keplar! Go save the universe, little one! Little old Ajelnae and Griff will be just fine, I promise."

She smiled again and the screen went black before we could respond. The knock at our door came again, another set of soft, gentle taps against it.

We stood up and tapped the pad on the wall after sliding the device undee our pillow; the door slid open smoothly, revealing Hunk on the other side.

Hunk scratched his neck and diverted his gaze now that he was facing us, "um, h-hey, Lance."

The Voltron team usually had a hard time looking at us, thanks to the scars on our face and the marks that swirled over our skin. We pulled at the sleeves of our jacket, and flipped our hood up to cover the tattoos on our neck. Usually we couldn't find it in us to care, but the more we settled into being one without the metal in our head, the more we found ourselves caring about what others thought and for the first time, as recent events caught up to us, we were sensitive about it all.

Stupid mortal teenage brain, with its desire to belong ingrained into it. Before modern times, a mortal human's very life depended on belonging to a group, and it seemed their brains hadn't gotten the hint that such worries were no longer necessary.

Hunk turned his gaze back to us, "can I spend the night in your room? I can set up on the floor. It's just… it's just that today was…"

Guilt ate at us, but we faked a smile and slung an arm around our friend, our words rising up almost as if they were meant to be spoken, "ah, you missed me!"

Through the skin contact, we felt his mood rise like a balloon released by a child.

"Yeah," he said softly, a small smile on his face now, "yeah, we did miss you, Lance."

"Come on," we tightened our grip, pulling him closer, and used our free hand to punch his shoulder lightly, "we'll make a fort on the couches!"

"Thanks, Lance," Hunk's mood lifted a little bit higher.

"What's really got you down, anyways?" we let him go and bumped our shoulder against his. It was a bad habit, always trying to be near enough to touch whoever we were closest to, left over from when we were blind and silent.

"Don't worry about it, Lance," Hunk's eyes shifted to meet our gaze, darting away when he realized he'd moved his gaze to our scars, "I'm fine. We're all fine."

"Mission go that bad?"

Hunk shrugged, face miserable again. The back of our hand brushed against his bare arm, and we caught the flashes of memory, strong enough to reach us; blood soaked walls slashed through our head, mangled limbs and bodies littering the ship like the entire ship had been decorated with them.

We jumped away, guilt rising up again three times stronger, but fortunately Hunk had been looking the other way and didn't notice.

"Come on," we said, quieter this time, "maybe we can see if everybody else wants to help with the pillow fort."

(Hmm… how will I ever make up for the wait!

Except… there's two shadowbeasts and a little candy turned bird who need names….

Lol, crappy way of suggesting this, but I'd like to give back to ya'll for all the support and kindness ya'll've been showing me. Suggest names for each of these three dorks and I'll have three seperate polls on my profile after I've had enough suggestions.)


	14. Chapter 14

(I don't own Supernatural or vld. Since only Metalfull responded to the name thing, I just chose some names instead of a poll so I can get this chapter rolling! But you're not here to read the disclaimer (you've probably already skipped it, let's be honest), so get on to that chapter!)

The walls in the common room glowed softly, lighting up the room enough to keep the darkness from slipping in all the way. We rolled over, adjusting ourselves in the Paladin dogpile that had formed under the fort. We'd been more spread out when we started drifting off, but the group had rolled closer in the small space available. Hunk made a good pillow, and at some point Keith had rolled over and clung to us like we were a giant teddy bear or a body pillow; we clung to Shiro's actual arm, glancing over at Pidge who was wrapped up in his other, using it as a pillow, her legs stretched out and resting on our hip. Every now and then, she'd shift in her sleep, and Keith would let out a grumble in his sleep as her little toes prodded his side; we didn't mind too much, because his mind would flare like the cooling embers of a fire, and yet not shifting into the wildfire that was his mind when he was awake. Plus, he'd cling a little tighter, but we pretended not to notice that part.

We allowed ourselves a smile and wrapped our wings around them. Their emotions were the calm and soothing flow of sleep, and whenever that calm sleep was disturbed by an approaching nightmare, we'd reach out with a hand and ease them back into a peaceful slumber. If we closed our eyes, we could almost imagine that we were back in the ship, curled up next to Ajelnae and Griff, with the others within an arm's length away; or maybe, even, we could imagine that we were back in that peaceful existence before time when all was well and good and...

Our smile fell. Heaven would never be like that again. Never again would we know the feeling of being wrapped in the wings of our siblings, safe and warm.

Footsteps sounded outside the fort; we closed our eyes, listening to the heartbeats and breathing of those around us as our head was lifted and lowered with every breath Hunk took. One of the shadowbeasts lifted its head up from the shadows, easily allowing us to look through its eyes. Allura was crouching and peering in under the blankets and pillows, a soft smile gracing her beautiful face; Coran stood beside her, a small smile on his face, too.

"I think they're all going to be alright," Coran put his hand on Allura's shoulder.

"I hope so," Allura said, shoulders hunched as looked at the Paladins, "that ship... Coran, I can't even describe it."

We fell from the shadowbeast's eyes, a sharp pang of guilt hitting us so hard that we couldn't even accomplish something as simple as staying connected.

A worried whine filled the air, and we felt out heart stop. We opened our eyes; Allura had spun on her heel, facing away from the fort. The shadowbeast had already ducked down into the shadows again, and we felt its lifeforce through the connection. It was hiding in the shadows with its sibling within the fort, huddled in our shadow. We sent a pulse of calm to them, trying to settle their fear.

Allura and Coran were still tense, both still alert, scanning the darkness outside the fort.

Slowly, not daring to breath, we grabbed the candy from our pocket and snapped our fingers as quietly as one can snap. Which is, to be honest, pretty impossible unless it's a really sloppy snap. The bird's gleeful chirp covered it, thankfully, as the candy snapped into shape and fluttered out of the fort to dance around Allura's head with a cheerful song.

The Alteans relaxed considerably. Allura stifled a relieved and happy giggle that made the weight on our chest lift a little; she raised her fingers to her lips, shushing the bird, before holding out a finger for it to land on. The little bird landed on her finger and fluffed up its silver feathers, letting out a sharp chirp of protest at being shushed. The stubborn confidence with which it held itself, it reminds us...

It reminds me of my sister.

"It's just Lance's little bird, Coran," Allura whispered, petting the little thing.

"Roni."

The two alteans turned, both smiling at us.

"You named it?"

"Roni," we would have nodded, but we didn't feel like moving our head from where it was comfortable on Hunk's stomach, "her name is Roni. After my sister, Veronica."

"I think it's a wonderful name," Coran told us.

We smiled, but two strings of irritation filtered through our mind. We could practically feel the two glares burning into us.

"Want to sleep in our fort tonight?"

Coran's face lit up and he wasted no time in quickly crouching down and crawling in. He made himself comfortable without waking anyone. There was enough room on the other side of the huddle for him to lean over and use Hunk as a pillow, too, his orange hair tickling our nose when we tried to look up to see him.

"Coran," Allura chided, but she crawled in, too, and made herself comfy next to Pidge, leaning against Shiro's arm which was still wrapped around Pidge.

Keith stirred beside us, grumbling with only half awareness as he tucked his head deeper into the crook in our neck before easing back into full sleep mode.

We stifled a laugh of our own before settling.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight, number three," Coran mumbled, and we felt him ruffle our hair with his hand before he tried to drift off.

"Goodnight, Lance," Allura said, and we could almost feel the warmth in her tone.

Coran and Allura both eased into sleep quickly enough. We, alone, stayed awake, keeping watch over the group. Family. Keeping watch over our family.

Two low growls echoed in the night. Roni let out an angry chitter as an inky muzzle stretched from a shadow and nipped at her tail feathers, a couple silver feathers gleaming in the shadowbeast's pitch black jaws. Not so alone, we suppose.

"Hey," we whispered to the shadows, and their gleaming eyes formed and peered at us.

Roni landed on Shiro's head, making herself comfy on the white floof of hair on his head. The silver bird seemed to glare at the shadowbeasts, her face surprisingly expressive for a bird.

"Jealous things," we scolded the shadowbeasts. Only irritation filtered through from them, though shame underlaid both. The night delved back into silence, except for the whirring of the Castle's machinery around us.

"Nerezza."

They perked up, and the more playful of the two seemed satisfied with our choice for its name.

"And Erebus."

The other sent a similar response. Seeming to sense that Nerezza and Erebus had nothing held against her now, Roni let out a tired chirp and settled down and scrunched up her feathers as she closed her eyes and shifted as she got comfy.

Nerezza and Erebus lurked up, crawling up into solid form from intangible to liquid to solid shadow, features already taking shape.

"Not yet," we whispered to them, "we're sorry, but they're not ready for you, yet."

Hurt flashed across the connection from them both. They listened, albeit reluctantly, and melted back into the shadows, becoming one with them once more.

We felt bad, that they needed to hide. Even so, we sent a pulse of apology to them before settling ourselves and closing our eyes, letting ourselves be lulled to sleep by the sound of breathing and heartbeats and the warmth of the bodies around us.

All was still, for a moment, before a squeaking sounded. Several colorful mice made their way into the fort, sniffing around the princess before making a beeline for us. We smiled, holding back a laugh as they climbed up and made themselves comfy on us.

"Goodnight, little mice," we said, patting the largest one. They chittered, as if answering. "Think we remember you guys."

With that said, we found ourselves quickly eased into sleep for the first time in a while, secure in the knowledge that we were surrounded by friends, by our space family, and that the rest of our space family was safe out there as well.

(I know you read this story, Bee. I know you ship Sheith, Bee. I know Sheith is your otp. And I know you're the one who keeps sticking fake moustaches on my house plant. I also know you're the one who keeps eating my ice cream. You're not slick, you're not sly, and nobody messes with my ice cream. Nobody.

I have a device charging in an unknown (to you) location. On it is a private playlist with nothing but a recording of Keith telling Shiro that he's like a brother to him. I have a baby monitor next to it (and yes, the device is on repeat) and the other baby monitor is turned up all the way and hidden within your room.

It will be playing till you find it, or until you stop taking my food. Good luck.

To everybody else, sorry about the chapter being short, but next one's gonna be longer, I promise!)


	15. Chapter 15

(I don't own VLD or Supernatural.

Thank you so much for everybody who has reviewed, favorited, and/or followed! I read every single review I get and they never fail to cheer me up and make my day! I love and appreciate every single one of you! :D

Except Bee. Note to Bee: after your retaliation for the baby monitor event, I just want you to know that I'm using your printer to print the entire Klible. By the time you get to reading this, it will be too late. It's also in color. Font size 20.

Nobody touches my pie.

Side note to my favorites (aka everybody but YOU Bee), all the support and love for this story warms my heart so much! I'm so sorry that it has been so long since the last update, and this isn't even NEARLY as long to make up for it, but the next one will be a MUCH shorter wait and I hope on being able to return to updating more regularly again. I've gotten several pms asking me if I'm alright (and I tear up a little at the idea that ya'll like me enough to worry about me) but I'm alright, just super busy what with college and everything now! I won't keep ya'll from the chapter you're here for though, so go on! What are you hangin around here for! Go read it!)

 _Lucifer cried when he killed me._ _No. Clone. It was a clone. He only thought it was me. Lucifer killed clone me, but I was there, hiding, and saw him cry. I didn't feel bad for the brother willing to kill me, his own brother, just to get his damn way._ _When Michael, this other world's Michael, killed me, it was almost like he was running an errand. Whoop, stab, killed, let him drop. Done. What's next?_

 _Done running done running done running I'm dead I'm dead I'm actually, actually dead this time and-_ _This is what being dead feels like? It's empty. Everything is empty!_

 ** _Sleep, little archangel._**

 _Sleep..._

We woke up in a cold sweat, heart pounding as we shook away the nightmare that our own mind had forged from our own memories.

We must have slept for longer than we had thought we would have, for when we opened our eyes we saw that we were the only ones still in the fort. We'd never taken our hoodie off last night, either, and when we sat up, we realized it was heavier than a hoodie should be.

We reached our hand back, reaching into the hood; there were several things in there, and one squeaked when we picked it up.

One of the space mice. We bet the rest of the Castle's mice were still chilling in our hood.

The mouse in our hand squeaked at us, shaking a tiny fist. We put him back in the hood.

Excitement sparked across our connections with the Shadowbeasts. Nerezza wanted to play. Erebus was just offering a calm good morning.

We rubbed our eyes before finally leaving the warm safety of the fort, drawn out by the idea of breakfast. Maybe we'd get lucky and the alteans had space pancakes that we could drench in enough space syrup to give somebody diabetes.

We were not lucky.

The other Paladins were sitting at the table when we walked in, each one of them with their own helping of morning food goo.

Food goo was **_healthy_**. Ugh.

"Mornin' Lance!" Hunk beamed through a spoonful of food goo, already waving at us. We offered a lazy wave in return as the others offered their own greetings.

"Saved you some, in case you woke up," Hunk motioned to the plate on his right, settled in the empty space between him and Keith.

"Yay," we said, plopping down in the seat he had saved for us. Our bowl of food goo seemed to mock us.

"How'd you sleep?" Allura asked us.

"Great," we grumbled, picking up our spoon and poking the food goo with it.

"That's wonderful," Allura said, "now that everyone is awake, we should begin training right away."

Even I groaned in unison with the others.

"Allura's right," Shiro said, "we have to find out what went wrong yesterday and we need to find out how to fix it. Besides, you all got to sleep in today."

"Allura's the Blue Paladin now, I guess," we grumbled, "that's all there is to it."

Allura sighed and gently placed her spoon down next to her bowl; she looked concerned, and sad, as she opened her mouth to speak, "Lance-"

We ignored Allura and shoveled a spoonful of food goo into our mouth. With our Grace backed up and no sugar to interest the Trickster part of us, all we tasted was molecules. We opened our mouth and let it plop back into the bowl.

"Eww, Lance!" Pidge scrunched up her face and scooted away from the table.

"Don't worry, looks the same as the rest," we said.

"I'm not hungry anymore," Hunk spoke up, raising his hand, "can I be excused?"

"Me too!" Pidge raised her hand, too, already hopping out of her seat.

Keith took a bite of his food goo like the rebel he was.

"Everybody sit down and eat your food!" Shiro cast a devasting 'Disappointed Dad' look around the table.

We all turned back to our food. Pidge grumbled under her breath. Hunk poked at his food.

"Oh, Lance!" Coran came bustling into the awkward silence of the room, balancing a tray of... whatever THAT was, as he did. Roni was nestled on top of his head, her silver feathers a stark contrast to his orange hair, "you're awake! And just in time to try-"

He cut off, staring at us all.

"Did something happen?"

"No," we said, standing up, "thank you for breakfast, but we're not hungry."

Hunk leaned over, "dude, this is lunch. You slept through breakfast."

"Oh, you're still connected to that experiment hive mind?" Coran cast us an expression of disappointment, though it didn't seem to be directed at us.

"Not a hive mind," we said.

"Speaking of which," Shiro spoke, happy to change the subject, "have you figured out anything new? And Lance, sit down, you haven't eaten anything."

We grumbled, but sat back down and stuck a spoonful of goo into our mouth.

"Actually, yes!" Coran beamed and raised his arm to point at Roni, who was still sat on his head, "I was trying to find anything about his markings when Roni, here, flew right into the screen of the machine! Shorted the interactive holograms right out!"

"What?" we perked up, "did you get hurt?"

Roni let out an angry chirp and ruffled her feathers.

"Oh, she's fine," Coran assured us, waving a hand dismissively, "anyways, when it came back online, it had frozen on an ad from a planet in the nearby Rakath galaxy!"

"And this is important..?" Keith stared at the altean, gesturing for him to continue.

Coran beamed and put the tray he was carrying down, already reaching across the table to poke us in the chest, "this is important because some of the symbols tattooed on him match the symbols they use for their letters."

"What?" Hunk almost dropped his spoon, "does that mean-?"

"That they might be able to help Lance!" Pidge jumped up in her seat, nearly half on and half off the table, "or at least translate it for us!"

"How soon can you get us there?" Allura stood up, forgetting her food.

"Half a varga maybe? Give or take a couple dobashes," Coran said, "I believe that the Jetacks ruled the Hephlar planet last I knew, but they had a different alphabet."

"A lot changes over 10,000 years."

"Well, that's obvious," Coran said, "perhaps Roni can help me try to look up the latest news from Hephlar?"

Roni chittered and shifted to get more comfortable. She was just content to sit there and watch the show, and we could sense her amusement.

"We should get to training right away, then," Allura said, "it'll pass the time until then and help us to be prepared."

"Can't we just spend it chilling?" Hunk asked.

We did not get to spend it chilling.

* * *

"How, exactly, is this supposed to help us with teamwork?" we griped after the fifth time that we had been zapped, ignoring Keith's cry of apology.

"Just listen to what I'm telling you to do!"

"That's exactly what we're doing!"

"You! What you're doing! Not we're! I'M! YOU SAY I'M!"

"You say I'm!"

"I am saying I'm!"

It wasn't until we got to be behind the screen that we realized the map with the electric walls didn't even match the map we were given.

Allura was impressed that we had figured out the lesson. Everybody else was impressed because they hadn't seen it.

We weren't impressed with ourselves. We were just pissed that we'd been zapped for nothing.

* * *

"Hephlar," Coran said, sounding oddly proud as he pulled the image of the planet up on the holo. He zoomed in, sliding his fingers across it like he was zooming in on the screen of a phone, "turns out the Jetacks are extinct!"

"You sound oddly happy about that," Shiro said, glancing at Coran with more than a bit of concern on his face.

"Made amazing shows, they did," Coran said, not tearing his eyes off the planet's hologram, "but always ended them on the worst cliffhangers."

"Ugh, don't even get me started on Jetack media," Allura said, already rolling her eyes, "who even makes a long running, amazing show about a group of heroes off to save their world and then end it just as they come face to face with the big bad that they have been searching for since season 1!?"

"Jetacks," the two alteans said in unison.

"That was oddly specific," Keith said. Allura ignored him.

"So who's running it now?" Shiro said, steering the conversation back on course.

Coran tapped on the planet and then on some altean symbols; seeing as we couldn't read it, we just patiently waited for the excitable altean to explain.

"They're called the consunt," Coran said, "nothing I've found has a clear answer on what exactly happened. Put aside all the theories and such, and all anybody really agrees on is that they run the planet now and that the Jetacks went extinct at some point in the last 5,000 decapheebs. Or, at least, left and got so mixed up with other races that there isn't really any left but traces in descendants."

Another tap, and a creature that must be a consunt replaced the image of the green planet.

"Looks like a fairie," we said, frowning, "should we trust something that looks like a fairy?"

"I thought you, of all people, would be overjoyed at the idea," Pidge said, letting out a sharp laugh.

"Does this mean fairies are real?" Keith leaned forward and poked the hologram.

"Alien fairies," we grinned; it wasn't like we were going to go ahead and tell him that actual fairies were real.

And that they were all assholes.

"But still technically fairies."

"Ha," we rolled our eyes, "that's like saying that alteans are elves."

"Space elves!" Keith beamed.

We couldn't help smiling back.

That didn't change the fact that space fairies were probably assholes just like fairy fairies.


	16. Chapter 16

(Please watch Trollhunters on Netflix. It's amazing, written by some of the same people working on VLD, Steven (he voices Keith in VLD!) voices a character in it, and you all really need to watch it please!

PLEASE I FINISHED THE SERIES BUT THERE WAS BARELY ENOUGH FANFICTION OUT THERE TO CONSTITUTE AS A SNACK, I NEED MORE, PLEASE, I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MY LIFE ANYMORE WHY HELP ME WHAT AM I GOING TO DO NOT EVEN THE NEXT SEASON OF VLD WILL FILL THIS VOID WITHIN ME NOW I KNOW HOW ANGER ROT MUST HAVE FELT.)

The consunt seemed more than happy to help, chirping happy greetings in chipper voices when Allura made communication contact. Team Voltron had gotten permission to land quicker than we could have told them that anything even remotely fairy was a bad idea.

"Have we mentioned that this is a bad idea?" we asked; our grip was tight on the arms of our seat as Allura landed the Castle.

"That's the tenth time you've said that in the last fifty ticks, Lance," Shiro gave us a smile most likely meant to comfort us, "you don't have to be afraid. We're just trying to help you."

"From fairies? Have you guys ever heard what usually happens in stories like that? Tricks. Traps. Boom! Fairy slaves! Or- or stuck dancing until you die!"

"This is real life," Pidge assured us, "and they're not actual fairies."

"Uh-huh," we shook our head, closing our eyes, "you're really going to trust a species who call themselves the consunt?"

"Do you have a better idea?" Allura said, shooting us a look of disapproval. We've gotten a lot of those today.

"Uh, yeah," we said, giving her our own look of disapproval, "getting out of here."

Allura shook her head and turned her attention away, "the queen herself is coming to meet us. Even if we did decide to leave, it would be extremely rude, Lance."

"Queen!?"

"It's a matriarch," Allura said, glaring at us.

"Of course it is," we grumbled, "fairy queen. Meeting the fairy queen. Like we're asking to be enchanted."

"For the last time, nobody is getting 'enchanted,' Lance," Allura said, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Yes, well, the queen is waiting outside," Coran spoke up, "we shouldn't make royalty wait!"

-line-

The consunt weren't tiny; in fact, they were about human size. They looked like them, though, even up close, from the skin tones and hair that seemed to come in every color of the rainbow, to the pointy ears and dragonfly-like wings each one sported.

The queen was a light blue, with silver freckles that covered her cheeks, and her wings made a pretty buzz as she fluttered circles around us in her excitement. The golden glimmer on her insectoid wings flashed like mini suns every time their system's sun caught them just right, and we couldn't help but find ourself irritated by it.

The planet itself seemed mostly vegetation and water, and a hot climate over all, and we were already starting to sweat in our Blue Paladin armor. Like the other female fairies, the queen's shiny red outfit looked like an odd cross between a bikini and a one piece bathing suit.

"I'm Queen Ponirá!" she chittered at us once she'd finally calmed down enough to land, though she was still bouncing up and down, her shiny white circlet almost falling off her head. Her dark blue hair was cropped short, probably because of the planet's climate, considering we hadn't noticed any long haired fairies.

"Princess Allura," Allura said, smiling as she accepted the hand Queen Ponirá held out to her, "it's a pleasure meeting you, Queen Ponirá."

Queen Ponirá giggled and moved to the next, greeting and being greeted. She came to us last, eyes flickering over our shoulders, staring unabashedly at our wings. Her stare stayed there.

We shrunk under her piercing stare, and her eyes finally flickered off of our messy wings and onto us.

"Oh, hello," she chittered, blinking quickly, and suddenly she was lot more in our face, the tip of her nose brushing the tip of ours as she grabbed our face. We felt our cheeks burn, our mortal half allowing us to feel flustered.

We swallowed and backed away, freeing ourselves from her grip. She let us pull away.

"Yes, yes," she nodded, seeming to mutter to herself instead of to any of us. She turned, already seeming to lose interest, waving to two shirtless consunt that must be males of the species.

"Follow," one said, "the queen will not be able to help further unless we return to Consunt Center."

"Consunt Center?"

"It's a castle," the other male said.

"You're odd, aren't you?" the other one said, as if it was more of a matter of fact than a question, "did the witch stitch those on?"

We shrunk under their piercing scrutiny and spared a self-conscious glance over our shoulder at our wings. They were getting better, but they've definetly still seen better days.

"No," we said, and we bared our teeth at them to make sure they dropped it.

"Very shiny, the other said, obviously not having gotten the hint, "I've never seen anything so bright."

"I've seen things brighter than you," I heard someone say, and Keith picked up his pace a little more to keep up, staring at the two consunt with that narrow eyed stare of his, "leave him alone."

"Just trying to help," the other consunt said quickly.

"Yeah," the one who had made the comment about the brightness of our wings gave Keith a once over before turning his attention back on us, "may I have your name?"

"No," we said quickly, "you may not have our name. It is ours. You may be told it, but it belongs to us."

There was a heavy sigh from those trailing a few steps behind us.

"This is Lance," Allura said.

"Told but not given," we clarified, just in case.

The two consunt shared a look between each other, their faces breaking into wide grins. Their teeth were sharp like shark teeth... like fairy teeth.

We turned our attention away from the monsters, looking around to examine the world more thoroughly. It still seemed, to us, as if it would not be out of place if it was in an Earth jungle rather than Hephar, if one did not take into account the beautiful fairies and golden buildings that rivaled the trees in height, blinding white bridges spacing out between them, connecting the higher levels to each other. Our eyes met those of a couple smaller consunt, most likely children, who beamed and ducked away when we caught their gaze, their little wings fluttering as the darted under the railing of the bridge they were on.

Ahead of us, the queen's flapping wings quickened their pace, and she rose from her hover, climbing higher. The two guards moved to follow before seemingly remembering that humans and alteans did not come with wings. The two both reached for us first, snapping at each other in their native, chirpy tongue before seemingly coming to an agreement. We darted away from the winning consunt's reaching arms.

"We will have to carry you," the consunt said, frowning, reaching for us again, "the higher classes live on the higher levels. The Consunt Center is the highest point, but none of you are capable of flight."

"We will have to do so one at a time," the other said, looking to the others, "if that is alright?"

"Of course," Allura nodded, polite as ever, "we are sorry to be an inconvenience."

"It is no inconvenience," the consunt reaching for us managed to catch us, having to adjust his grip as we struggled to break his hold, "we will take the clipped one first."

"And I can take the Red Paladin," the other said, nodding.

"Clipped?" we spat.

Shiro gave us that disappointed look again; grudgingly, we stopped squirming. The consunt swooped us up bridal style, probably just to spite us, considering the other consunt picked Keith up much more respectfully. The consunt took off, wings buzzing as he rose higher. Even with being carried, it felt nice to feel the wind brushing through our feathers, and the glare fell off of our face as we looked down, watching the ground fall away below us; it seemed over too soon, the consunt carefully setting us down on a golden platform. He hovered a moment longer before heading back down with the other to transport the rest.

"Wow."

We turned to see what Keith was talking about and found our own jaw dropping as well; it had seemed splendid down on the dirt paths below, but up here made the lowest levels seem like slums.

With a sinking feeling, we realized they probably were.

"Do you think that's actual gold?" Keith asked us, crouching and knocking against the platform before standing up and casting his gaze back onto the massive castle that towered before us.

"Think they're trying to make up for something?" we said.

Keith only rolled his eyes.

Even with our comment on it, we couldn't help but to be impressed by the castle that seemed more palace than anything, with a platform weaved from golden branches so large and so tightly woven together that it seemed as if the castle rested atop a world that had bark instead of dirt.

"Wow."

We turned, already offering a smile, amused as Pidge and Hunk stared at the consunt castle with just as much wonder and awe as Keith and us had. The two consunt guards were already hopping off the platform to go and retrieve the rest.

"Think they're making up for something?" Pidge said, reaching up and adjusting the glasses that she didn't even need as if it would make what she was seeming seem real.

"Totally," Hunk let out a breathless laugh, still gaping.

"Ha!" we nudged Keith's shoulder with our own, "that's exactly what we said!"

We all silenced as the consunt guards made their reappearance. Somebody must have offered to help down there, because three consunt came up instead of the two; while the original two stayed up here, the third dropped off his person and disappeared back below the platform.

"This way," the one had carried me chirped, brushing past us to lead the way. His buddy brushed against our wings as he slid past, but we couldn't figure out whether it had been purposeful or not. Either way, we shook our wings to rid ourself of the tingling feeling.

We hate having them touched.

The inside of Consunt Center was even more breathtaking than the outside had been.

The outside garden seemed almost as if it had slipped right inside; whoever had set up all the emerald foliage and intricate flowers had done an excellant job.

It was bright, too, and we looked up. At the top of the enormous trees, Consunt Center was in what was most likely the best sun spot around.

The artificial waterfalls, on the other hand, we figured might be a bit overdoing it. They were definitely making up for something. Had to be making up for wing size; we hurried our steps and flared our wings, just to intimidate any staring consunt. As the Messenger, our wings were better suited for speed than power, so they were a lot smaller than the wings of our older siblings, but they were easily larger than those of any of the insectoid wings of the consunt.

Weren't they? We flared them again, just in case. Yep. Definitely.

Behind us, Roni let out an encouraging chirp from her perch onon Coran's head. Nerezza and Erebus voiced their agreements as well, a deep mumble that rumbled across the connection like a heavy purr.

We made a mental note to see if we could make their legs more even and less all varying lengths. But how so? More dog-like, maybe? Decisions, decisions.

Could we change illusions made real? It would be interesting to find out.

The Queen was waiting in a golden throne that was much larger than it needed to be, the armrests bedazzled with various gemstones. There was a nice looking gap for her to stick her wings, and we felt a sharp burst of envy run through us. Why couldn't we have a chair with a winggap?

She leaned forward as our group neared, resting her chin on her hands, slender fingers interlocked with each other.

"You need our help," she said, flashing a pearly white smile of teeth just as sharp, if not sharper, than those of her guards, "the letters tattooed along the warding are written in the letters of our language, you said when requesting docking."

"Yes," Allura nodded, "would you be willing to translate them?"

"Could you undo Haggar's work?" Shiro asked.

The Queen fluttered her eyes, then beckoned us closer with one, thin finger. Her nails, we noticed, looked like they were painted in wet blood.

With an expectant look from the Paladins, we grudgingly stepped forward, approaching the throne. She didn't speak. Reluctantly, we got within her reach.

"I will need to see them," she said, tapping her pointer against the breastplate of our armor.

We looked back. Hunk gave us an encouraging thumbs up.

Slowly, we undid the armor, stalling almost in the way we went about it. Eventually, though, we'd gotten it off, and clung to it in our arms. The Queen showed no signs of impatience.

With one last, almost inaudible grumble, we placed the top half of our armor down on the floor.

The Queen leaned even closer, gaze raking over our chest, our sides. It was almost as worse as the scrutiny she had raked over our poor wings.

"Crude," she murmured after a long moment, and with one hand she motioned for us to turn around, and we did so, "obviously not a first language, that's for sure, nor much of a language of all. Our letters, but not our words. The witch did not want her work easily undone."

"Do you know whose words?" Keith spoke up; he sounded annoyed.

"Perhaps I do," Queen Ponirá said; we felt a hand brush against our feathers, still new, still messy, as she brushed them gently aside to get a better view, "for a price. You didn't think politics would be simple, did you?"

We stepped away, out of her reach, and turned to level her with a glare. She stared back, looking amused, as if we were some irritated child instead of an ageless teenager.

Wait. That didn't make much sense. But that's what we were, weren't we? Ageless, yet- ugh, it wasn't worth the headache.

"Our Grouping is a world power," she said, and her eyes flickered from ours to Allura's, "but not the only Grouping. Our territory spreads far, and wide, and my influence runs deep, but not deep enough to keep my people safe."

"How could this help us?" we said, keeping our voice cold; keeping it all Archangel. Dangerous.

She smiled again, "aside from translating the letters and pointing you off? Well, the other strongest Grouping, the Armati, are not the most avid supporters of my rule.. or of Voltron. They want to place their trust in the Galra. In the witch."

The sparse few consunt in the throne room, most of them guards, all let out angry chitters. One even spat, as if the mere mention of the Grouping, or maybe the Galra, tasted bitter.

"My spy network has warned me of chatter indicating a possible attempt on my life, tonight," Queen Ponirá said, leaning back in her throne, "and, even worse, there is a possibility that they might have insiders within our Grouping, conversing with a group who disagree with the matriarch and how the priests read the Holy Book. The written form of our language has no sex variance, and thus they do not believe that the first Queen was, in fact, a female, contrary to historical evidence."

"A war outside and in," we said, before Allura or Shiro could speak, "where do we come in?"

"Hopefully, Voltron's presence will deter them. Otherwise, it always safer to have more firepower for protection," the Queen said, "in return, we will help Voltron and the Ponirá Grouping will pledge ourselves to the Voltron Grouping."

She turned her gaze onto Allura, while saying this.

Allura was silent for a long moment before she nodded, that familiar look of determination steeling over her, "alright. When is the event?"

"It is a banquet, celebrating the Hatch day of my eldest son," Ponirá said, smiling again, "Voltron will be at the table. We can talk over the details while some of the servant can take the rest of you to guest rooms."

Two of the consunts fluttered over when the the Queen beckoned, one emerald skinned and the other with skin as grey as stone. Emerald-Skin barely waited until it knew Team Voltron was paying attention before it took off towards a door at the end of the room closest to the throne.

"Is this really the best idea?" we fell back to ask Allura and Shiro.

"Do you have a better one?" Allura said.

We stopped and stood still. The group continued onwards, not noticing our lagging.

We cast a glance at our shadow. Within, swirls of darker black churned, but offered nothing. Roni didn't even chirp from up ahead.

"A better idea?" we asked no one, "guess not."

Quickly, we moved to catch back up with the rest.


	17. Chapter 17

(I don't own Voltron or Supernatural)

The beds were HUGE!

We weren't too sure why, but we couldn't stop ourselves from taking a running leap onto one. It was soft, but we still bounced a couple times. Sure, the so called rooms was actually one large room seperated into sections by walls of vine, but it seemed unimportant in light of this.

"Aw, man! Hunk! These things are enormous!"

Hunk put down the top of our armor; we hadn't even realized that we had forgotten it back in the throne room, even after we'd pulled the black undersuit back up. At least Hunk had us covered. Our friend walked over and poked the bed before turning and jumping backwards so that he landed on his back on it.

"Cannonball!"

We rolled out of the way of the incoming Pidge, who bounced so high that we would not have been surprised to learn that she had somehow learned how to fly.

"Really, guys?" Keith said, but he was grinning. We army crawled across the large expanse of the bed, grabbed his arm, and pulled him down with us. He landed with an oof. "Lance!"

Shiro let out a huff of laughter, than jumped onto the side of the bed, legs kicking off the side, "it is soft."

"Paladins," Allura said, trying to scold us, but she was smiling in the light of our laughter.

"So these are the famous heroes who have been frolicking across the stars?"

We sobered quickly, but flopped over onto our stomach rather than actually stand up to greet the consunt now standing in the doorway. His skin was a midnight blue, and his hair black, but the silver freckles that spanned across his nose and cheeks was more than enough to leave us confident in our assumptions. "Elves frolic. Paladins do not. You the birthday boy?"

The consunt smiled at us, flashing his mouth full of sharp teeth, "Prince Katar, indeed, at your service. And I am sure that you would look quite charming frolicking through the garden. I do believe your eyes would match the flowers in the Eastern Plat, dear Paladin."

We rolled our eyes and rolled over to bother Keith, "oh, how charming."

"Lance! I'm not a pillow!"

"Congratulations on your Hatching Day!" Coran gave the slightest of bows, one that Katar smoothly returned, "it is an honor to be allowed to take part in your people's festivities. From what I've heard, outsiders do not often come to Heplar and view the festivities even less!"

"And it is an honor for us, as well, ser, for Voltron to be here and a part of them." Katar smiled, somehow making his sharp toothed grin seem unthreatening, "the Paladins of Voltron, attending my Hatching Day? It is a splendid gift, I assure you!"

We rolled off of Keith and onto Hunk, who made a much comfier pillow and didn't voice any complaints.

"Of course, I did not come here just to exchange pleasantries," Katar said, "as I promised mother that I would escort the clipped one to Scribe Verum, so that he may begin translating the symbols for you into one your translators will be able to read. All are welcome to come with, although Scribe Verum was my teacher for much of my hatchling days, and I have to warn you that the old consunt is.. well, an odd one. In a good sort of way, of course!"

Katar startled, suddenly, wings shifting.

"Oh, I almost forgot! Mother wishes to speak with you, Princess Allura, and you, Paladin Shiro. She says the rest of you may have free rein of the Castle as is reasonable."

"Cool," Pidge was the first to hop off of the bed. "Lance will get his tattoos translated, and then we can explore fairyland- CONSUNT! I, uh, I meant Consunt Center."

Keith pushed off the legs we'd swung over him from our spot lounged across Hunk's back. "How long will this take?"

"How long? I doubt anybody here could be sure," Katar shrugged. "I pity you, my friends. That ancient scribe is anything but predictable."

* * *

Verum was… old.

At least we suspected he was old. His wings were colorless and tattered, and his skin color looked sunbleached to the point where it was white, his hair as silver as the freckles on Katar's face. His eyes seemed the only thing that had retained its color after however long he had been alive, two gleaming yellow orbs that were more prominent compared to the rest of his colorless features. He looked up, squinting at us, but was soon rifling through the papers scattered all around the cluttered room we had been brought to.

"What is this?"

"The Blue Paladin, Scribe Verum," Katar said, holding back the vines that made up the door to allow us and the others through, "Mother said you needed to translate the letters on his skin."

The old consunt looked up, staring right at Prince Katar.

"Is that mother calling? It was nice to see you, Scribe Verum, uh, good day!" Katar said, shrinking under the scrutiny. He patted our shoulder as he rushed out, whispering a quick 'good luck' before he was gone.

Verum watched the prince go before turning back to his papers. He looked over them, then shoved them all off of his table to scatter onto the floor. One caught a breeze, and slipped out the door. "Voltron? Of course, Voltron."

The old scribe turned, kicked a chair out of his way, and headed further into the dark room.

"Don't just stand around like a couple spideerax," he snapped at us all, "come. Make yourself comfy, by all means. You, split one, on the table."

Pidge claimed the comfiest chair, aka the one single armchair, immediately. Hunk moved for the chair that seemed an odd mix of tree stump and swivy chair that the consunt scribe had kicked. There was another one, but Keith lingered by the bookshelf instead, pretending to read the titles on their binds even with his gaze constantly flickering from the books to the grouchy consunt.

Shoving aside our paranoia, we hopped onto the table, sitting on it with our legs off the side. The scribe returned from the darkest corners with a handful of items; he tossed a couple blank papers beside us, and what looked somewhat like a pen of some sort, then dumped a handful of variously colored crystals on our other side.

"Didn't know I was interesting enough for a whole alletnut gallery," Verum said, shoving a finger under our chin and jerking our chin up to bare our throat. We tried not to fiddle, especially as we were stuck looking at the ceiling, but we could barely feel the brush of the scribe's fingers against our neck as he examined the wards there.

"We're here for moral support," Pidge said.

Verum let out a sharp bark of a laugh. We waited for him to say something, but he seemed content to leave it at that, merely scribbling on his paper.

"Armor off," he said. Grumbling, we pulled off our breastplate, then rolled down the undersuit. Going silent once more, Verum continued translating.

The other Paladins grew bored one by one as Verum worked. Pidge was the first to wander off, then Hunk. Keith lingered a little while longer before growing bored, and he, too, set off out the door. It was just us and the scribe, Verum.

We weren't too sure how long it was after Keith left that Verum dropped his pen onto his paper, not even halfway done. He set off rummaging through the dwarers of the desk, grumbling to himself.

He pulled something out of one. It looked like an odd dice, except it had strange symbols on it instead of dots or numbers. Verum didn't seem to care, tossing it onto the desk and grumbling over the side that ended up facing up.

"Is it a scrye of some sort?"

"No."

We waited for an answer. Instead of giving us one, Verum pocketed the dice and grabbed a couple of the crystals.

"...What was it for?"

"Me."

"But why?"

Verum hit a bright red crystal against a bright blue one. The impact caused a couple purple sparks.

"Is that going to help?"

The scribe turned a bored gaze on us, and clashed the two crystals together again. "Indecisive."

"What?"

"It helps me make up my mind," he said.

"That explains nothing to us."

"Never change. From consunts to whatever have you out there. Think they're different, but always ask the same," he said, stepping closer, "why do this? Why do that? Perhaps I wish to. Perhaps I think to do so. Perhaps its a choice between solutions. Solution or nothing or solution."

He grabbed another crystal and handed it to us.

We frowned and opened our mouth to question him, but he walked around the desk. We heard him clash the crystals against each other before we could turn around to see what he was doing back there.

The purple sparks burned when they landed on my golden wings. I let out a sharp cry, flaring the huge limbs as I leaped off the table and away from the pain. The crystal I had been holding, which was now colorless, turned to dust before it could even hit the floor.

Verum seemed pleased with himself, despite the fact that his quarters had just been thrown into disarray. I had made my wings tangible in my shock, and had wiped out a couple of his bookshelves, sending them toppling to the floor. A good portion of the crystals that had been next to me were now on the floor.

"There, solves that," he decided, tossing the crystals over his shoulder to clatter on the floor.

"Solves that!? Solves what!? What the hell did you just do to me!?"

Verum stared at me with an almost bored expression.

"You're welcome," he said after a long, tense moment.

"For what?"

He let out a rather colorful insult that didn't hold that much venom and settled down in his armchair. Verum let his gaze travel off of me, surveying the room as if looking for something that hadn't been knocked over. "By all means, I'll wait."

"Crazy old-" I trailed off. My head felt almost... light. Like I had lost a headache that I hadn't even noticed I had had. "I. Me. I-"

"Yep."

"You- you-"

"Yep."

"I," I smiled and ran my hands through my hair. It was quiet inside my mind. Calm. At peace. "But-"

"Not a perfect solution, no," Verum said, "but it'll do for now."

We were... an I now. How else could I explain it?

"How?"

The consunt dragged the swivy-stump chair close to him to enable himself to kick up his feet. "Surely you've seen enough in either lifetime to recognize magic when you see it? Or maybe not? Technology seems all the rage, these days. Idiots, the lot of 'em. Can't fight what was with what now is. You have to remember."

"What do you want?" I asked him.

"Want?" Verum rolled his eyes, seeming almost as if the question bored him. "You're acting as if I solved the entire issue for you, you ancient child. The spell wanted the human and archangel as one? I gave it the bloody thing it wanted. That damn witch was counting on the Grace keeping the spell from unifying the two, therefore keeping you in... limbo seems a good enough word. I stunned the Grace for a moment, is all. A moment is all it needed. Work is done, it's gone, boom. Grace is still trapped, but at least your mind isn't trying to ruin itself."

"What?" I hopped off the table, pulling my wings in close, "no, no, no, you don't understand. I can't- I _have_ to be both!"

"Do you?" Verum asked, not sounding too concerned.

"Yes! I can't be both at the same exact time! You can't just-" I snapped my fingers, searching for the word. English had never been my first language in either life. "You can't just turn two completely different people into one! And-! Hold on. Explain how you know about Grace."

"Calm down," Verum said. "I've been alive for a long ass time, is how. You think daddy dearest only fiddled with the Earth your immortal half comes from? No. He hid out in this universe a while back. Spent my middle years editing things for him."

"Editing?" I grabbed a couple of the papers off of the floor and shuffled them into a pile. A paper crunched under my boot, and I reached down and grabbed it, already looking for more. It was the least that I could do.

"Writing or something," Verum said, "don't get too excited. The archangels and angels barely got a paragraph. It wasn't too interesting of a read, not that I ever told him."

"Typical. Father out and about having fun, and all the while his children were tearing each other apart." I put the papers down on the table and turned to Verum. "So now what? I was both Lance and Gabriel, but now I'm neither."

"Don't be silly," Verum said, "you're both. At once. Without all the turmoil. You're welcome."

"To be both is to be neither," I said, "now I'm just even more of a monster than I was before."

Verum cast me a rather impressive bitch face. This time, my mind happily allowed the memory I was searching for to come to me. Verum's bitch face was rather impressive, but it couldn't beat Sammy's.

Shit. I don't even know if those boys survived Michael. Hell, I didn't even remember Michael until a couple minutes ago! Seeing as the whole sacrificing myself shit had led to this, I wondered if it was even worth it.

"I have two seperate timelines in my head, two seperate lives," I told him, "I belong to both yet neither of two seperate dimensions at once. If anything, this makes even less sense than before."

Verum sighed and pulled his feet off of the chair, sitting up in his seat. He turned his gazeonto me, "think of it this way-"

He cut off as the vines in the doorway parted, Katar shoving his way through. Verum grumbled in response to the interruption as I got the top half of my armor back on.

"Scribe Verum," Katar said, nodding his head towards the Scribe as he greeted him. "Mother wanted me to tell you that Princess Allura wishes to know how things are going in here. Any progress?"

"I've had enough writing for now, my hands cramping up," Verum said, "scram, the both of you. I've got important business to get to. I'll work further on the translations later."

"Right away, Scribe Verum," the prince smiled at the old consunt before he grabbed my hand, "come along, Paladin!"

I let him pull me out the door, but spared a glance back at Verum before I was gone. The consunt had kicked his feet back up and closed his eyes, heartbeat already settling into sleep. And then the vines had fallen into place and I was alone with Katar in the hall. Well, not alone, per say, considering Nerezza and Erebus were still with me.

I wondered, for a moment, if I should put my clothes backwards.

"Was Verum able to help any?" Katar asked as he let go of my hand, the two of us walking alongside each other.

"Somewhat," I said.

"He's weird, isn't he? Don't get me wrong, the old guy means well. It's just... well.. he's..."

"Different?"

"That's it."

I allowed myself to relax, though only a little. "So, does he always refer to naps as important business?"

Katar laughed at that, translucent wings fluttering as he took to the air. He turned, flying backwards so that he could face me, hovering in front like a hummingbird. "Mother says that he has always done that. He's the oldest consunt, so Mother says that he is the wisest. He's the only one that can blow her off, which he usually does whenever he feels like it."

"Yeah, my mom and dad are both like that with my abuelo," I said, "the rest of us gotta watch out for la chancla, but Papa Leandro can say whatever."

"Abuelo?"

"Do you guys have grandparents? Parents of your parents?"

"Oh," Katar said, "yeah, we do. I mean, my siblings and I don't, currently, but we used to."

"Sorry."

"Nah, it's fine," Katar assured me, already smiling, "they lived for a long time, so it's not too bad. If they were still around, they'd be a couple centas younger than Scribe Verum."

"Younger than? Verum doesn't seem like he's planning on going anywhere anytime soon."

"True," Katar said. "You know, many of the people, myself included, believe that he's using some sort of magic to stick around. Not many use magic anymore."

"Yeah, he said something about that."

"Did he give you his remember the tools of yesterday as you handle the tools of today speech?"

"Something like that."

"Ah, elders are old fashioned like that," Katar said, "and mother is, too. The way I see it, why should we focus solely on the past when there's an entire future ahead of us? I mean, I understand the whole forget history and repeat their mistakes thing Scribe Verum always told me about, but sometimes I think they all focus too much on the past. You get me?"

I stared at the prince for a moment, thinking over my answer. "Well, you're the oldest, aren't you? Why not just do something about it when you become king?"

"If only it was so simple," Katar said. He landed, wings drooping as he kept pace beside me. "My younger sister will get the throne. Even if I became king, I would have to marry somebody, and they would technically be in charge. I would be king, for sure, but my power would be limited."

I thought on it for a moment. Finally, I stopped and turned to face him. Surprised, he stopped as well.

"Why not marry someone that you could control?" I asked him. "Find yourself a queen that will enable you to control the kingdom from the shadows."

He stared at me with wide eyes for a long moment before he frowned, seeming to consider it. "Such an idea never really crossed my mind. But why would any consunt allow themselves to be used in such a way?"

I smirked and spread out my wings. "You know, Scribe Verum is onto something in paying attention to the past. Now, do you have to marry royalty?"

"Not specifically."

"Find yourself a pretty girl in the lowest levels," I said, "who would give up the chance to marry a prince? Find yourself somebody that you can manipulate. A life of royalty and all they would have to do is play puppet to your rules. You wouldn't be the first to ever do such a thing, I assure you. I can name countless Earth rulers who have done this. Just say that you love her, and nobody should question it since you don't have to marry other royalty."

"It seems almost cruel, to marry someone just to use them," Katar said, "I would have never expected such an idea to come from a Paladin of Voltron."

"There's a lot out there worse than politics. I mean, not much, politics really suck, but believe it or not there are things that suck even more. Besides, I am more than just one of the Paladins of Voltron."

Am more. Was more. And will be again. I may be a single individual, now, but surely that just puts me one step closer to fixing all of this, and I will be Lance and Gabriel again.

"I can see that," Katar said, his eyes flickering to my wings. "I'm not sure if I a life ruling from the shadows is for me, but it is something to think about."

"It isn't like you need to think of a decision today," I said, "your mother and sister are alive and well still, aren't they?"

"That they are, Paladin," Katar smiled, "that they are."

He bowed, slightly, and motioned forward.

"Shall we part ways here, Paladin?" Katar asked me. "Your wings look like they could use a good groom. Now, our wingcarers would be of no help, as consunt lack feathers on our wings, but we do have birdcarers who take care of the Skulltures, and your wingspan seems about equal size to one of those."

"Really?" I couldn't remember the last time somebody had groomed my wings. I think I was in heaven, last time. No. Back at the Bunker, Cas had fixed them up for me while I was Gabriel, back before I had snapped out of it after they'd freed me from Asmodeus. "Well, if they'll only preen for me, then I see no problem in allowing them to do so."

"Perfect," Katar said, and he smiled again and motioned to the closest hall, "just go down there and take a right until you reach the end, then take the first door on the left. From there, it's just a straight shot to the Skullture nests. If you ask one of the birdcarers, they should be more than happy to help."

"You're not coming?"

"I have to get ready for the feast," Katar said, "it's going to be a night to remember, I'm sure. Take care, Paladin."

"You as well, Katar."

He smiled again, bowed one more time, then turned and took to the air again.

I watched him head off for a moment before starting down the hall that he had sent me towards. It was a left and then a right, right? Wait, no, a right and a left.

Yes, that was it.


	18. 7200 Word Chapter For the Holidays

(Combined two chapters in one for ya'll! Yay! Happy holidays! Here's a (about) 7200 word chapter not counting author notes at beginning and end! :D)

I would say that I couldn't remember the last time I had felt so relaxed, but an archangel never forgets. The last time I had felt this relaxed was that night a few years back babysitting my niece and nephew, one on either side leaning against me while a Disney movie played on the tv. The last time I had felt this relaxed was way back before any mortal creature could even comprehend, spending a lazy evening in a huddle of wings and divine energy, a group of angels and archangels as a family, preening and gossiping; a 'Did you hear what Father made today?' here and a 'you will not believe what so and so did' there.

Heaven was nice, back when things were peaceful enough for us to lounge around and gossip instead of fighting and dying and wondering what we had done so wrong for Father to abandon us.

Closing my eyes and not paying too much attention to the fact that it was fingers instead of another's Grace running through my feathers, I could almost pretend I was in the old Garden again.

The Birdcarer consunt were chittering to each other, though almost softer than the others outside the huge aviary where Consunt Center's Skulltures were kept. I spared a moment to wonder if it was another dialect, or if maybe they, too, were relaxed. Or maybe just awed.

I smiled at that. It's been too long since I've been under the awed eye of anyone. Hearing prayers just wasn't the same as when I was allowed to just pop up and have people look at me with awe and wonder. When the first thing out of my mouth had always been 'do not be afraid.'

And yet, at the same time, I had never had somebody look at me like that, no matter how hard I tried to prove myself.

Having two sets of memories made things confusing, sometimes.

A hand snagged on a clump of primaries stuck together on one of my wings on the right. The Birdcarer let out a coo not too much unlike that uttered by a fleeing mourning dove back on Earth. I hoped it didn't have the same meaning. Instead of fleeing, the Birdcarer only carefully worked long dried blood from the feathers and then gently shifted them into place. Another of the Birdcarer consunt was working at the base of my wings where they sprouted from my back.

I heard the door to the aviary opening and Nerezza growled through the connection. I let the itchy warmth leave my wings, falling back to being invisible and intangible. To mortals like humans at least. The Birdcarers working on my wings let out squawks of surprise as their hands suddenly moved through the wings, but they were pretty much done with them anyways.

It was only Katar, who looked a tad surprised as I sat up and pulled up the top of my black underarmor and had my wings go straight through it like it wasn't even there. I pulled top half of my Paladin armor on as well, a bit faster and easier than when I had been we.

"Your friends were looking for you," he said, tilting his head to the door. "And the banquet is beginning soon."

"Spendid," I hopped off of the table (more of a large branch, really) and onto the ground. The huge Skulltures lurking on the nests built onto ledges carved into the walls were silent, each pair of eyes focused solely on the events before them. I spread my wings and gave a showy flap of all six, showing off.

The males (the Birdcarers had occasionally rambled about their precious birds in a language the translator could translate) made rumbling noises but turned their gazes, shuffling dark wings. The females, each one with snow white feathers in contrast to the males' pitch black ones, all kept their gaze on me.

They reminded me of Rocs, a little. A tad smaller, but they were still about the size of a Clydesdale horse. At the same time, perhaps they had taken my display differently than intended. Wasn't sure how to feel about turning on a bunch of alien thunderbird-almosts.

"Banquet? Perfect," I said, ignoring the amused chirps of the Birdcarers as I grabbed the Prince's shoulders and led us both out of the aviary before I could be -perish the thought- jumped by misinformed Skulltures.

"Yes," Katar said, nodding. "Your wings appear much better. I trust they must be much more comfortable now?"

"Much better," I agreed. "Now tell me, Prince Katar- and this is quite important, mind you- how many dishes have sugar in them?"

"Sugar?"

"Ah, nevermind. I'll just do trial and error."

We walked in silence through what seemed like almost endless hallways and past countless doors of varying colors before we turned into one I recognized. The prince nodded towards an open doorway; from within, familiar voices were chatting although I didn't focus enough to hear what they were saying.

The prince gave the slightest of bows and smiled, "I suppose I will see you at the banquet. You should sit next to me, Paladin Lance."

I felt irritation simmer across my connection with Nerezza. Not wanting her odd behavior seeping into my emotions, I gently pushed my connection with her deeper into the back of my mind until her rumbling growls across the connection seemed little more than a gentle tickle against my mind.

I couldn't keep down a laugh in response to Prince Katar's suggestion. I puffed up my wings a little, just to feel the little addition to my ego to see his gaze move to them with awe filled eyes.

I should have agreed to meeting the consunt sooner, just for their priceless reactions to my wings. But what angel wasn't vain about their wings?

Especially these ones, freshly preened for the first time in too long and enough feathers having grown back in to be presentable. The one sign of my archangel status that that horrid witch could never take from me.

Katar smirked, biting down a laugh of his own. "A contest to see who is bigger? Hardly mature."

"I've had more than enough time to become mature," I said. "Hasn't happened yet, thank my Father. Not that he's ever done much."

"Likewise," Katar said, "well, I'll leave you to your friends, Paladin. I suppose I will see you at the banquet."

We parted at the door. I almost strutted in before remembering that my wings were only able to impress the consunt; My team couldn't even see them. Almost depressing, now that they're almost back to their formal glory. Wouldn't be too long for the flight feathers to be good enough for me take to the air.

"Lance," Shiro was the first to notice me enter the room, and he was already giving me a toothless smile. "How'd it go?"

"Scribe Verum translated a bit." I said. I paused, just for a the right bit of dramatic effect. "…And he undid a little of what that hag did to me."

I put my hands on my hips and waited. I couldn't help the proud smirk that lit across my face at how their faces lit up.

"My boy!" Coran practically bounced over to me, already grabbing me by the shoulders and pulling me into a hug. "He disconnected you from the hivemind!? Brilliant! How did he do it!? Is he skilled with quintessence, then!?"

I laughed, more of a giggle than anything (Not that I would ever admit it).

Hunk was the closest and just scooped us both up into one of his famous Hunk hugs. I caught Keith staring, the slightest of movement at the corner of his lips.

"Miss me, Mullet?" I asked, my smirk turning into more of a smile. He rolled his eyes, but his mouth turned up into a smile, so I considered it a win.

I wasn't the Lance he thought I was. But I had been. That's what mattered, wasn't it? I was just.. more.. now…

Gance.

That's it.

But I guess I'll settle for them calling me Lance. For now.

In the end, I did not end up seated next to the Prince. Not that I minded all that much.

Instead, Team Voltron had taken up similar seating to how we all usually sat (position wise, at least) at the table back on the Castle. Which left me between Keith and Hunk. I wasn't complaining; Hunk was my buddy and Keith made the most amusing face if I made my wings just tangible enough to tickle the back of his ears with my feathers.

Katar stood and lifted his cup, grabbing the attention of those in the hall, a smile dancing upon his lips, "a toast, Mother. Long may you reign. And sister, I know you will make for a spectacular ruler when the time comes."

His sister, an emerald skinned, blue haired consunt whose name I cannot recall having caught, smiled back at him. His mother, Queen Ponirá, raised her glass in answer, a proud smile on her face as she looked at her son.

"Happy Hatch Day, my darling boy," Queen Ponirá said.

Katar smiled back at his mother as she took a sip from her glass. He raised it to his mouth, but seemed to change his mind before he could take a sip. Over the top of his glass, his eyes met mine.

The prince smiled and set his glass back down. I turned my attention away as he turned to chat with his mother and sister.

"Any sign of anyone seeming suspicious?" Coran whispered.

"Anybody could be ready to take out the royals," I hissed back. "For all we know, Scribe Verum could be planning the coupe."

We all looked to the elderly scribe. He'd propped himself back in his chair, what must be some sort of consunt sunglasses on his face to hide his eyes. Considering we could hear Scribe Verum's snores from all the way over here, it was probably safe to assume he was doing 'important business' again.

"Yeah, I think we can rule him out, Lance. Besides, why would he help you if he was sided with the Galra?"

"Oh, shut your quiznak, Hunk," I said. "If you ask me, whoever's planning on making a move isn't going to be obvious about it. Spotting a spy isn't as easy as it seems in, like, cartoons and stuff."

Roni settled down on my shoulder, little talons digging in as she landed. I glanced towards Coran, but he didn't seem too sad that his new buddy had left her perch on the top of his head.

"Hey, Roni," I lifted my finger up to her, but instead of hopping onto it, she pecked it with a sharp jab of her beak. I cried out and yanked my hand away, staring at my finger in shock. There wasn't a mark, but that didn't change the fact that it had hurt! "Roni, what-"

Roni let out a sharp chirp, hopping onto the table with a quick flutter of her silver wings. She chirped a storm at me, flapping her wings and hopping, talons clicking against the golden wood of the table each time she landed on it.

"She bit you?" Keith said, staring at the little bird.

"Maybe she's hungry," Hunk said. He ripped off a few crumbs of the bread-like lump on his plate and tried to hold it out to Roni. She only batted it away with a wing.

She let out a shrill cry, gesturing to my chair. I looked down, but all there was was the chair and the floor and the shadows-

Oh.

Oh, no.

Erebus solidified a little, looking at me with a confused tilt of his head. As if nothing was wrong at all.

There was only one Shadowbeast.

"Nerezza," I hissed. In my tightened fist, the two pronged 'fork' crumpled a bit in my grip. I dropped it like it burned me.

"Huh?" Pidge leaned over to look over at me. "What did you say?"

"Uh, huzzah? I mean, yum, this, uh, this thing is pretty good, huh?"

"Ah, the Grittleburred Wettlebill-beetle," Coran stabbed his fork through his own as I tried not to spit out the one I had just shoved into my mouth. "Yes, they're quite the delicacy, here! Do you think they would let me take some with us when we leave?"

Ignoring him, I concentrated, trying to find Nerezza. The connection seemed almost strained, but I hadn't been paying any attention with it shoved so back and- there! I skipped through her vision, trying to get a read on her location.

Feet. Consunt feet, it seemed, midnight blue in color. One pounce would be all it would take to reach the consunt. Nerezza crept forward, slithering into the shadow of Prince Katar.

I snapped back to myself. Across the table, Prince Katar was standing up.

"Excuse me, everyone," he said, bowing a little to those seated. "I'll be back in a couple sickles. Riala, my dear sister, I've got a crowning gift for you. I know it's a few drillbas early, but nothing would make my Hatch day better than seeing the look on your face when you get it."

"If it would make your Hatch day great, brother, than I would be more than happy to accept whatever you have gotten me," Princess Riala said, beaming at her older brother. "Is it a medallion? Like the one in your room!? Oh, please tell me it's a glittery medallion like that!"

"You're much too smart for your own good, Riala," Katar said, tapping his sister on the nose. She giggled, and he smiled at her. "Yes. Exactly like the medallion in my room."

"Medallion?" Queen Ponirá looked up from her plate. "What medallion?"

"Oh, it's so pretty, mama!" The Princess beamed at her mother. "It has this most amazing design on it! It-"

"Now, now, Riala," Katar said, interrupting his sister. "Don't spoil the surprise! I got one for mother, too."

He wasn't alone as he walked out of the room; Nerezza was hidden away in his shadow, and two of the guards lined against the walls split off to escort the prince.

"I'll be right back," I said, scooting away from the table.

"What?" Pidge reached right across just to grab my arm. "Lance! The Amanti could make their move at any moment!"

"The Ponirá Grouping isn't going to fall just because one Paladin left the group," I said, careful not to hurt the human as I pulled -well attempted to pull- her hand off of my wrist. She had a surprisingly strong grip for someone her size, but humans are surprisingly fragile. An inescapable dilemna.

"Pidge is right, man, we shouldn't split up," Hunk said.

"I'll go with him."

"You?" Pidge's grip loosened. From surprise? Confusion? Either way, I took the chance to try again and this time I managed to free myself.

"Why not?" Keith said. "I'll make sure he doesn't get himself in any trouble and, as you said, it's dangerous to go alone."

"See? Keith will go with me."

"Be careful, you two," Shiro said. "Be on your guard."

"Not that the Amanti seem in too much of a rush," Allura said with a sigh. She didn't seem to be eating much, just poking something that looked too much like an eyeball to seem appetizing around on her plate. I didn't blame her, considering I hadn't touched much of the odd cuisine on my plate either.

I followed after Katar, counting on the connection with Nerezza to lead me. Keith followed me, and Roni flew quick circles around us. She'd race ahead, race back, hover over me for a moment, then race ahead and repeat the whole sequence again.

Katar must have heard us walking towards him, because he was stood outside a door when we caught up. His door? He was holding something round and golden in one hand, his other hand behind his back and his posture straight.

"I knew you couldn't keep away," the prince said, looking up and smiling as we came to a stop a couple feet from him.

"We're just-" Keith looked to me. "Well, where are we going?"

"We thought you might need help with the medallions," I said, smiling right back.

"Oh, you needn't have worried," Katar said, shifting his balance. "I'm quite capable of doing things myself, thank you."

"I'm quite sure you can-"

It was surprising how quickly things went to hell.

Roni let out a shrill screech about the same time that Nerezza leapt free of the shadows with a snarl. The Prince cried out as the shadowbeast locked her jaws around his arm and yanked him to the ground. The guards turned on a dime in the air, wings buzzing almost as loud as the rifle-like weapons powering up in their hands.

The medallion dropped from the prince's mangled hand as he shoved at the shadowbeast pinning him. His scream as she tore into him made my ears ring. His free hand came up. Nerezza let out a yelp that was almost a scream. The prince scrambled free, his hand coming down on the medallion. It let loose a glowing white pulse that felt like slime as it surged through the air and passed over us and through my wings.

The guards fired on my shadowbeast, and Nerezza let out a sharp yelp at the surge of electricity that slammed into her. The current was strong enough to filter through the connection. I froze, Grace and quintessence both freezing up within me. My wings spasmed as I dropped, trembling more from the memory of excruciating pain rather than what little I could feel. I knew that sort of electricity. I knew that sort of electricity!

"Lance!" Keith's bayard was already out, his eyes darting, trying to figure out who was the enemy, and his eyes locked onto Nerezza, who was still stunned from the blasts. Shadowbeasts didn't have shadows, but shadows seemed to be leaking out around her. She wasn't standing up, but she was trying.

All I had to do was loosen my control for him and within barely a moment Erebus was solidifying and lunging for the kill. He took down the first guard and lunged for the next, taking the consunt to the ground. As the first body hit the floor, a shiny gold medallion rolled free of the first guard's uniform.

I reached out and grabbed it. I pulled it close, having to blink several times before the current ceased enough for my eyes to focus on it. The image of a burning tree was engraved into it, with Consunt writing on the medallion. And if that little part on the top of the burning tree wasn't meant to represent Consunt Center then I'll eat my bayard. And there was a certain name that came to mind when wondering who would want to see the Ponirá Grouping burn.

"Shit! Keith, they're Amanti!"

"Amanti?"

Keith and I shared a panicked look.

"We need to get back."

"You can say that again," Keith said. "Those- those things-"

"Nothing to worry about," I assured him, glancing at Erebus and Nerezza. Erebus turned his wide eyes onto me. His sister only whined, the energetic little shadowbeast barely lifting her head. The shadows were spreading beneath her. And Roni, where was Roni!?

I scrambled to my feet and nearly fell rushing over to Nerezza. I checked her over, ignoring Keith's scrutinizing stare.

"She'll be okay," I said, the pressure weighing down on me seeming to lift. A golden dagger was embedded in her side; as soon as I pulled it out, Nerezza collapsed into the shadows beneath her with a sigh of relief and hid within my shadow. Without her bleeding darkness onto the very ground, the black receded from the floor as it regained its normal coloring.

Erebus stood over the body of the second guard, sides heaving as he stared back at me when my eyes met his. With his sister saved, he seemed a little bit more at ease, though his form still quaked and trembled.

"What are those things?"

"Whatever they are, they probably saved our lives. Now come on! We need to get back-"

The ground- no, the bark that made up the floor- shook. Keith and I both nearly fell over as the entire tree seemed to quake. I cut off, focused on not falling over. The second we had caught our bearings and the tree's shaking ceased, we took off back the way we had come.

It was chaos. Absolute chaos.

Galra fighters had blown right through the ceiling. The screams of Skulltures filled the air was almost as piercing as the sound of blasters and the cries and screams of civillians and the other consunt who had been in the hall. With the consunt having never made spaceships, not needing them thanks to their wings and not wanting them due to not wishing to explore the universe, the Birdcarers were riding the Skulltures into batttle instead of battle ships; the huge birds were tearing into the Galra ships with a vengeance, their battle cries filtered through screams of pain and the flaming bodies of the fallen ones, black and white feathers alike drifting through the smoky air amidst the blood and debris. Half the guards seemed to have turned on the other half, with no way for me to tell who was sided with who. Galra, galra droids, and consunt were tearing into each other. It was more than chaos. It was like being plunged into a circle of Hell.

It wasn't a battle. It wasn't a war. It was Death given larger form.

In the clamor, the sound of my bayard forming may as well have been silent. Keith yelled something, but I couldn't hear what it was. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I registered Erebus returning to my side a couple moments before he was bowled over by a couple of fighting consunt and disappeared into the writhing mass of fighting bodies.

Keith grit his teeth and grabbed my hand, tugging me into the fray. I pulled him back and gave him a look that I hoped was able to signal to him just how insane of an idea that was. Either he misread it or disagreed, because he tugged me forward, a surge of determination burning in him so strong I may have even been able to feel it without my hand in his.

We shoved our way through with our swords, shoving with the hilts and using the bladed halves only when weapons were raised against us. The white of Paladin armor flashed between the writhing mass of colors, and we headed towards them.

What was probably only a minute seemed to last forever as we battled our way through. With the sky full of Skulltures and Galra ships and enough consunt to fill the air with the sound of millions of buzzing wings, I almost didn't realize that we had gotten outside until I noticed consunt shoving galra and galra droids off the edge of the platform. Some were even tearing the wings off of consunt enemies and tossing them over, too. Fortunately, it seemed difficult for anyone to get the upper hand enough to do so, and the Amanti consunt were still outnumbered by Ponirá consunt.

At least I hoped it was that, and not the other way around.

A booming war cry echoed in the air. I glanced up in time to see Queen Ponirá, a silver sword in her hand. She was rallying her forces, her piercing chirps echoing over the noise of battle. The consunt were echoing her battle cry. The tide of battle was surging towards the edge of the platform, and the consunt were ganging up on the stockier galra and their droids, a wave of bodies dead set on shoving the Galra over. Consunt from lower levels were joining, as if the entire Grouping was rising up like a hive of wasps. Hands of hundreds of varying colors were reaching up over the sides, grabbing ankles and pulling wingless enemies over the side.

A skullture dove past close enough for me to recognize Princess Riala upon its back, emerald skin a stark contrast to the snow white feathers of her mount. The giddy child-like look was gone from her face, replaced with cold eyes and a sharp-toothed scowl. The Birdcarers rallied behind her were attacking with purpose: smashing through windshields, pulling out the pilots, and tossing them away to plummet. Somewhere, somehow, Erebus wailed in pain and plummeted into the shadows and hurried over to hide in my shadow to join Nerezza.

The last time I had seen fighting this violent, so all encompassing, so- so- so DESPERATE and bloody and chaotic- a struggle that became less battle and more grasping and clawing at survival with each passing heartbeat-

"-ance! Lance! Lance! Lance, listen to me!"

Keith was shaking me, hands on my shoulders, his panic as strong as it was clear on his face.

"Come on, Lance! We have to go! Come on!"

I turned my eyes off of the carnage and into his gaze. He was afraid. But the determination and worry within him was strong enough to overcome it. He was being strong in spite of his fear. He was grounding me to the here and now.

And the flashes of angels, screaming and dying and crying and fighting, dissipated from where it saturated the chaos around me.

"We're almost there. I can see them, Lance. We're going to be okay."

He was yelling. I could barely hear him.

"I'm okay," I said, "I'm-"

A galra droid rammed into us, knocked into us as a consunt smashed another consunt's head in on the robot's metal back. Keith shoved it back, and only when I noticed the dead consunt topple out of sight did I realize just how close to the edge we had gotten.

I didn't stop to think. The Galra droid's hand had closed around Keith's wrist as the teen shoved him off. There was a split second where time felt like it had frozen, but then Keith was being pulled off the platform by the droid's falling weight, and everything seemed to flash forward. Maybe if my limbs hadn't felt so heavy and my head so fogged, I could have grabbed him in time to keep us both on the platform.

I dove after them, grabbing onto Keith's other arm, but the weight of both Keith and the Galra droid were pulling me down before I could find traction on the rain covered branches, and three of us were falling. A couple consunt tried to reach for us, probably on Queen Ponirá's side, but Amantis kept them from helping.

We were falling, and all around us were bodies falling, too. The living and the dead.

I pulled Keith close as he shoved off the clinging droid ane I wrapped my arms around him. I could feel his pounding heart and his terror pierced through me even though he was trying his best not to panic as we hurdled past branches and platforms.

Even knowing that the sudden uplift would hurt, I spread my wings out. Nearby branches whipped against us, a silent lesson on just why the consunt's wings were smaller than my own, and the wind rushing past us sent burning pain through my wings as they caught the air and threw us up, billowing up beneath my wings and hitting the dozens of scratches I'd gotten from smacking branches. They were weaker than they used to be from disuse and they felt heavier, but I bit through the pain and tried to go higher, flapping a couple times even though it felt like I was trying to fly through molasses.

I managed a shaky wobble, but we sure as hell weren't getting back up there without help, especially with how heavy everything felt, and the ground was still coming up fast. I twisted to take the brunt of it, and we (technically just me, seeing as I was cushioning the mortal's fall) skidded across the ground and slammed into the base of one of the trees.

I shoved Keith off of me, wincing as I shoved myself up and ended up pulling on several feathers. Keith lay where he had landed, chest heaving as he stared up at the sky. I tried to get to my feet, but my legs gave out beneath me.

Keith cursed, but it seemed to be sinking in that he was still alive, as he shot upright and grabbed my arm, pulling me up to my feet and looking me over for injuries. I shoved him away, though it took more effort than I had expected and I missed, stumbling into him instead.

Where earlier there had been consunt buzzing around down here, it was eerily silent. It was like having been plunged into a different world entirely, what had been a thundering mash of sounds so far above that the only sound I heard of it was the echoes in my ears.

"Lance?"

"M'fine," I choked out.

I was pretty sure that I was not fine.

Keith shoved away the hands I was swatting at him with and looked me over for scrapes and bumps. When he started trying to check my eyes for signs of a concussion when I was pretty sure he probably didn't even know the signs of one, I grabbed his wrists.

"M'fine."

"We just fell-" Keith stepped back and I almost fell over without his support. He quickly came back to sling my arm over him before he stared up at the trees (well, tree, seeing as the trunk took up most of what we could see) which extended farther than we could see. "I don't even know how far we just fell."

"L'ky breeze?'

"Not funny, Lance," Keith said.

"I'thnk'ws."

"Just- just stop talking," Keith said. "How hard did you hit? How many fingers?"

I stared at the hand he shoved in my face.

"Uh… two?"

"Quiznak," Keith hissed. "Okay. Okay. Don't worry- fuck!"

He pulled back, dragging me with him. A consunt toppled onto the ground, wings shredded. Dead the second she hit the ground, maybe even before.

Queen Ponirá.

"Okay, fuck," Keith said. "Um, okay- we're uh we're gonna go this way. Over here."

"M'srry."

"It's not your fault," Keith said. "Come on. We can do it. Just a couple more steps. That's a door shoved under.. is that a root? Quiznak, it doesn't matter, does it? Okay, come on. Stay with me, Lance."

"M'here."

"Keep it that way."

"T'was- consunt-"

"Yeah." Keith's face set, as stiff as stone. "Come on. One foot after another, sharpshooter."

I closed my eyes, just for a moment, but Keith suddenly lurched forward. We toppled onto the ground and I forced myself to open my eyes. I looked over at my teammate, but his eyes were closed. I reached forward and plucked out the small dart lodged in his neck.

"K'th?"

I forced myself up. Tried to, at least. I still ached from the crash landing, and toppled over before I could even get my feet beneath me.

I looked up as a shadow fell over us. As I stared into the emotionless eyes of a galra droid, I finally decided that I might as well just accept the fact that this was most definetly not my lucky day.

I knew we shouldn't have come to this fucking planet.

-line-

When I finally came to, everything was illuminated in that wretched purple that the galra were so fond of soaking themselves in. I like purple as much as the next guy, sure, but even I know when too much is too much. And that's coming from a Trickster, thank you.

Keith was already spitting out angry words, so he seemed to be alright. Thank Father. Not that he has anything to do with anything. I looked over at him, relieved to see that, other than some bruises and scrapes, he seemed unharmed. Although there was a nasty cut on his lip that hadn't been there before.

"About time the sedatives wore off," a voice growled. I had barely begun to scramble to my feet when a clawed hand gripped me by the throat and dragged me up into the air. I kicked, hoping to hit something that would earn me a high note, but my feet hit only air.

I bared my teeth, clawing at the purple hand wrapped tightly around my throat. The galra looked at me, his expression indifferent.

"This is Haggar's mighty monster?" the galra soldier spoke, tilting his head at me, "this scrawny excuse of a being? I could snap you like a twig. You seemed so much more impressive from afar."

"Leave him alone!" Keith spat, struggling to get to his feet. The other soldier shoved him back down. With his hands tied by the energy cuffs, he couldn't stop himself from falling. I let out a wheeze that would have been a roar had I had enough air for the action.

"She would probably be delighted to have her favorite plaything back," the soldier said, petting my head with his other hand, his claws brushing through my hair and against my scalp. "Haggar's beautiful masterpiece."

"Don't touch him," Keith snarled, "once the rest of the Paladins catch up- once they find us-"

The galra's grip tightened without warning. Before I was even aware something was happening, the galra twisted my head in one swift motion. My vessel's heartbeat flickered to a stop soon after the sound of our neck snapping shot through the air like a gunshot.The galra dropped my limp form and stepped over me. With the body offline, I couldn't even move my eyes to follow; I could only stare sightlessly through the body's dead eyes.

My soul would have been lost, had the Grace part it was tied to hadn't clung stubbornly to the vessel. I wouldn't be able to leave even if I wanted to. Even if I wasn't some Frankenstein combination of Lance and Gabriel. Erebus and Nerezza whined through the connection, neither stable enough yet to materialize. I still had no idea where Roni had gone, and could only hope that she hadn't been destroyed during the attack on Consunt Center.

Keith had said nothing, still said nothing, and just stayed still, staring at me with his eyes wide and disbelieving. As if he couldn't quite comprehend what had just happened, he remained almost frozen.

"Have you ever seen the monster in action?" the soldier who had snapped my neck asked the other, "I have. Every fight. Every experiment. I was there."

The other soldier backed away, staring at him in horror. "You killed him! Haggar-"

"Couldn't care less."

The soldier moved over to Keith and grabbed him by the back of his armor. He shoved him down onto his knees. Keith bit his lip and looked away from me, scowling as though it would make his silent tears disappear from his face.

"Watch," the soldier ordered. When Keith refused, scrunching his eyes shut, the Galra turned his face by force; his claws dug into Keith's face hard enough to draw ruby beads from the paladin's skin. "Watch."

Those purple eyes opened just barely, reluctant to look at my limp, lifeless form. I probably looked like a toy that had been broken and tossed aside without a second thought.

I wasn't dead. My heart wasn't beating but that didn't mean that I was dead. Even telling myself that, my blood felt like it had turned to ice in my veins. If my heart hadn't stopped, it would have been pounding.

But Keith needs my help. No time to be afraid. No time to think ahead.

No time to think about how monstrous it would look. To feel humiliated under the scrutiny of the three person audience.

My Grace was already getting to work. A spasm ran through my heart. Then another. This time it started up and began to pound, pumping the blood back into motion in my veins. My head twitched into place as my Grace dragged the two pieces back together, and the bone sealed back into place with an audible click.

The second soldier gasped and nearly dropped his gun as he stepped back. Keith had opened his eyes fully now, staring at me with his mouth hanging open.

I blinked, then blinked a few more times to clear my eyes as I moved my head, grimacing as I made sure my neck was back where it was supposed to be. Slowly, I pulled myself up to my knees and forced myself to meet Keith's eyes.

The horror on his face made me look away almost instantly. My eyes burned and I lifted my hand to brush away the tears already escaping, gritting my teeth in a futile attempt to stop from crying like some stupid little kid.

I heard the thud as the soldier shoved Keith away, heard the gasp he made as he caught himself before he could faceplant.

I didn't struggle when the soldier grabbed me by the back of the armor and pulled me to my feet.

"Look at you," he sneered. "You just needed someone to beat the obedience back into you. To remind you of your place."

I bit my tongue so hard that the mixed taste of blood and Grace spread across my taste buds.

The soldier dropped me, but I didn't try to catch myself. I let myself fall. What was the point? The galra had me again, and my shadowbeasts were weakened, and would probably be taken and experimented on at any moment the second they dared show themselves. All it would take would be that damn witch getting ahold of them, and who knew how much more dangerous the galra could become.

I should kill them. I could. Just focus my Grace through the connection and…

It would be a mercy.

But I couldn't bring myself to do it. Maybe I loved them too much, or maybe even not enough.

No. Voltron was still out there. My shadowbeasts, once they regained their strength, would prove to these galra just how monstrous I could be. How we could be.

"Thank me," the galra said.

I opened my eyes, staring at him. Thank him? What for?

The galra growled and shook me so hard my brain rattled. "Thank. Me."

I growled back.

"I could snap your little friend's neck as easily as I snapped yours. I doubt he would recover quite as easily," the galra said, sneering at me. "Haggar would not care. She already has you. And yet your friend still breaths. Or I could have electrocuted you until your eyes rolled back into your skull. Or shoved your head under water until all that was within your lungs was liquid. I haven't done either. So thank me."

I swallowed down my pride and clenched my eyes shut. I knew from experience that the soldiers like this one wouldn't leave me alone until I did what they wanted.

"Thank you," I rasped out the words, barely audible.

"What was that?"

I wheezed, gasping in a breath in a useless attempt to soothe my bruised throat. I spoke again, louder this time. "Thank you."

He smiled and let me go. I fell onto my knees, catching myself before I could fall facefirst and be humiliated even further. The soldier patted me on the head. "Was that so hard?"

"Tahlek, leave him alone," the other soldier said.

The soldier, Tahlek, only laughed. He reached over and shoved the other soldier. "Oh, grow up, Rahkon. It's a monster, not a child!"

Rahkon frowned, fur bristling. He took a deep breath, grip tightening on his gun. "They're prisoners, not toys or garbage you can just kick around. You can't just treat them like dirt."

The galra growled, lunging towards Rahkon. For a moment, I thought he'd hurt him, too. But Rahkon flinched and Tahlek stopped before he even would have touched the other galra.

"You'd do best to remember your place, Rahkon," Tahlek growled. "I am your superior and you will show me the respect I deserve. One more word from you, and I'll have Belhra add another page to your disciplinary file."

Rahkon's nose twitched, but he said nothing and averted his eyes.

"That's what I thought," Tahlek growled. The galra turned and grabbed my wrists in one big hand, pulling me back up onto my feet.

"I'd sooner die than respect a glute like you," I heard Rahkon hiss, just audible enough for my heightened senses to pick up. From the way he said glute, I was guessing it wasn't a very polite word.

Tahlek lifted my wrists to the cuffs on the wall and the metal moved and tightened against my wrists, holding me up. Rahkon did the same with Keith, though a lot more carefully than Tahlek had done with me. My arms were already starting to ache as I found myself stuck on my tiptoes as Tahlek adjusted them, yanking the cuffs higher. My wings were pressed against the wall behind me, feathers already scrunching up against the smooth metal.

Rahkon did not do the same to Keith. From what I could see, the other galra was at least allowing Keith to keep his feet comfortable against the floor.

Tahlek grabbed my face and forced me to meet his eyes.

"Haggar will be in to see you shortly, little monster," he said, tone speaking more of a promise than an estimation. He smiled and patted my head again, ruffling my hair.

Rahkon lingered even as the other galra left. Hesitant, he lowered the cuff's position on the wall, sliding them down enough for my feet to rest on the floor. His hands lingered against mine before he clenched my hands into fists.

"I'm sorry," he told me. "When the war is over, these sort of things won't be necessary anymore."

"Help us, then."

"I can't."

I lowered my voice to a hush. "You can join the Blade of Ma-"

"I can't. Not everyone gets to choose their own destinies." Rahkon closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them. "Do you have siblings, Paladin?"

Paladin. It's.. been a while since a galra has referred to me as anything but monster.

"Yes," I admitted.

Rahkon smiled a bitter smile. "I do, too. A little sister and a little brother. I am all they have, Paladin. They depend on me to put food on the table and- and to keep them safe. I'm sorry, but I- but I cannot help you. I'm.. I'm sorry."

Rahkon hesitated, eyes darting to the empty doorway.

"What happens in regards to your actions, on the other hand, well, I have no say in that, now do I?" He hissed to me, voice hushed.

Without another word, he turned and left the room. When the door slid shut behind him, the lights turned off and plunged Keith and I into a familiar type of darkness. The kind that had no light to offer. I could hear Keith breathing, but I could not see him. I could hear his heart beating. It had slowed down.

"Keith-"

His breathing stuttered, his heart missing a beat before speeding up.

I fell silent and didn't speak again, pretending it didn't hurt.

My neck still hurt from when Tahlek had broken it. With nothing else to see, Keith's terrified expression danced across my vision, even when I opened my eyes. Or were they already open?

"…Lance…"

He hesitated. I let him fall quiet.

"….It's going to be okay," he said. "We're- we're going to get out of here. I promise. I won't let them hurt you again. I won't."

I couldn't bring myself to respond. Instead, I tightened my grip on the small device that Rahkon had slipped into my hand.

(Phew! You didn't think that M for violence rating was just there for the beginning, did you? Happy holidays, you guys! Bout 7200 words not counting author notes. Sorry it was a bit late!)


	19. Chapter 19

(Sorry about the wait! Been busy as hell, and am pretending season 8 never happened because I am still salty that Lance got screwed over like that. I don't own VLD or SPN.)

The device was beginning to bite into my hand, but I dared not loosen my grip on it.

I almost did when the door opened after what felt like forever but had only been an hour, but I managed to keep it in my grasp. Haggar looked the same as always: like a bitch.

She looked me over, trailing forward almost as smoothly as if she was a ghost. She probably did it on purpose, just to be as creepy as possible.

The room had brightened upon her arrival, and Keith was still blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted. I, my eyes capable of adjusting faster than any human, focused my already adjusted eyes onto the witch.

I didn't move as she reached her hand out, tracing the scar from the blind that had been screwed across my eyes, cupping my face almost like a mother caring for her child. I scowled at her touch, lasting only a moment before yanking my head to the side and focusing my gaze onto the wall.

"Leave him alone," Keith spoke up. "Haven't you done enough, already?"

Haggar didn't even deign to look annoyed. It was almost as if Keith hadn't even spoken at all.

She reached forward, fingers pulsing with purple light as she reached towards me again. Haggar brushed her hands against my forehead before jolting back as though she had been burned, her face contorting into an expression of rage.

"My spell!" she screeched. "You foolish creature!"

"You can thank the Consunt. My mind is my own, witch."

She slapped me. Quick and sudden, a hard smack that would most likely be leaving a bruise. At least it will heal quickly.

"The thought, the time, so much put into the careful crafting of it!" The witch bared her teeth and turned. "It does not matter. You have your mind, but minds can be corrupted. Can be damaged."

"Leave him alone!"

Haggar motioned with her hand and two guards stepped in. They freed Keith from the wall and yanked him towards the door, ignoring his protests. Something bitter and dark swelled within me. If they hurt him-

"For all your talk, you are but a speck in the eyes of my Father-" I hissed, anger and hate bitter in my gut- "in the end, you are NOTHING."

I let my voice bleed through on the last word. The look on her face was worth it, and already it was twisting into rage. But I had my voice. She could take it away, but I wanted my words to haunt her. To echo in her ears when silence falls.

"How long do you believe your petty tricks will protect you?" I asked her. "I have watched as existence itself came into being. Overseen the sands of time as they began to move. Watched darkness and light split the universe and seen my Father create everything out of nothing. I have watched life begin and end, species exist and snuff out, worlds begin and end, planets mold into being and shatter into comets, stars begin to burn and stars begin to die. Before time, I have been here, and I will be here long after. You are but a child, an infant, small and insignificant. You are but a puny ant who has stumbled across a dragon. How long do you truly believe you can hold me back? I have my mind. Soon, I will have it all."

I grinned, then, relishing in the flicker of doubt that ran across her face. How long could she hold me? How long could she control me? What has she caught? What sort of monster has she tricked and how long until it breaks free of its chains?

"Your magic and your wards may hold me, for now," I said. "But you cannot kill me. Destroying this physical form would free me. And every wrong against me and my own only fans the flame and makes me stronger. And the stronger I get, the weaker your chains become. It is only a matter of time, Haggar. I will be free, whether you will it or not."

Haggar stared at me for a long moment before her mouth twisted into a smirk. She reached forward and cupped my face in her hands. She was smug, impressed even, but there was no fear in the emotions I felt through the skin contact.

"Silver-tongued, indeed," she said. "But you cannot trick someone who already knows the tales they tell of you, Loki Liesmith."

I threw myself against the cuffs that held me pinned, but Haggar was already stepping back.

"Your silver tongue paints such beautiful lies, Liesmith," Haggar said.

She wants lies? "I am destined bring about the End of all, Haggar. You've read of me? Then you know you hold the reins of a worldender who simply hasn't deigned to buck you off yet."

She turned and left, as confidant as when she had walked in, but hopefully doubt had carved cracks into her mind. I couldn't be sure, with my Grace trapped within me. I watched her go, hate churning in my gut as I imagined all of th.e beautiful things I wanted to do to her: burn out her eyes, turn my fingers to talons and carve my own designs into her flesh, cut out her tongue, leave her to rot with the voices of all she's wronged and hurt echoing in her ears with hundreds of screams driving her deaf.

Oh, how I wished I could show her just what it was she was trying to break. You cannot break an archangel! You cannot- Asmodeus, smug and smiling- Grace sapping-Scared-help- Pleasepleasepleasestopleavemealonewhywhypleaseletmedie-

NO!

I pulled free from the memories and glared at the door. My will surged through the connection. Even weakened, my shadowbeasts answered their orders and followed her.

At the door, Nerezza and Erebus split up. Erebus took off after the witch, judging himself as more likely to survive an encounter should he be noticed, and Nerezza headed after Keith's scent trail.

I closed my eyes, letting my focus split between the two.

Nerezza found Keith, thrown into a cell but seemingly alright. Rhakon was stationed near it and shooed away the guards when they seemed about to kick the red paladin after tossing him in. He seemed alright, for now, and I tugged Nerezza's focus to Erebus and she retreated to her brother's side.

Erebus had followed Haggar to a room, notes and sketchs lining the purple walls. I recognized some of the wards and lines similar to those tattooed onto my body and so I willed him closer.

Haggar paused when Erebus slid into her shadow, a shiver running through her before she looked around the room. I held my breath until she turned back to the table and walked the few last steps towards it.

Nerezza had reached the two by now, slithering up to lurk in the shadowed corners of the room. A shadowbeast on the floor and a shadowbeast on the ceiling, allowing me a view of the room from above and below.

Haggar flipped through the papers, but I could not work out what was written on them. But I was not the Messenger for nothing.

A spike of direction over the connection and Nerezza lurked closer. After a moment of study, my mind shifted and -with help from my Trickster powers- locked the symbols into place in my mind.

Haggar had grabbed what appeared to be a notebook as well as a black box not much bigger than a shoebox and headed back for the door. Erebus remained in her shadow with orders to report anything of note and I turned my complete focus onto what Nerezza's eyes were seeing.

Nerezza solidified and dropped down onto the table, limping across it to the papers that had caught my attention. I pulled her focus to the papers and had her freeze as I scanned my own attention across the words. As soon as understanding of Galran language kicked in -and thank Father that my ability to understand languages, at least, could not be taken from me- I directed the shadowbeast further.

The notes that had caught my attention had a variety of wavelengths and coordinates scribbled on the first few that I recognized as being near the Milky Way. They were filed in with notes on Loki, myths and tales picked up from searches brought in after connecting to Earth satellites. Hopefully they would be too busy sorting through the several versions. But the information on Loki wasn't what bothered me.

The Galran were close to Earth. My family was down there, defenseless, as well as the rest of the human race. They wouldn't know what hit them. Not even Sam and Dean could stop an entire race.

Maybe Jack could. But he shouldn't be left to it alone, not yet, not this young. And my cousins, Father, my cousins had done nothing to deserve having their freedom taken away.

Nerezza sensed my worry but didn't whine in empathy, understanding the need for silence.

The next notes that Nerezza found were even more worrying in light of the one hope I had for Earth.

A painful fear clogging my throat, I urged her to look through them again and again. They didn't change.

Page after page after page leading to an obvious revelation.

This wasn't my dimension.

This was the home dimension of half of me and a foreign one to the other. This one was several years ahead of the other, but it didn't have Jack. Father knows if it even had angels. Or the supernatural. If Galra invaded, the things that go bump in the night would risk revealing their existence to protect their planet and supply of humans. Whether they ate humans or killed them or took their souls or energy, they would protect the Earth. But what if this dimension had nothing going bump in the night?

Heart pounding in my chest loud enough to hear it, I urged her to the rest.

Nerezza stumbled across the research notes more than she found them. I had her skim through them, looking through her eyes as I searched for loopholes or anything else I could exploit. My sour mood was too strong and a growl rumbled through the shadowbeast at the emotions churning through her on my behalf.

The door hissed and Nerezza sank into the shadows instantly, the shadows that had leaked from her still healing form the only sign that she had been there.

A galra soldier entered, weapon up and pointed as he scanned the room. Upon finding nothing, he moved towards the table and examined the shadowpools as they seeped back into the nearest shadows.

I held tight onto Nerezza's bloodthirst as the galra stepped beneath her perch and poked the liquid shadows. Erebus' attention pulled at the connection but I stayed focused on Nerezza.

The galra lifted his hand up to the comm in his ear and I released her.

Nerezza dispatched the galra quickly and leaped onto the table, tearing into the notes. By the time droids and more galra had caught wind of the commotion, the room looked like a hurricane had gone through it: jars of quintessence shattered across the floor, everything that wasn't nailed to the floor overturned, everything paper ripped and shredded beyond repair, and deep gouges in the very metal of the walls and floor. Nerezza left shadows and blood in her wake, painting the room with them both. She dived into the shadows before the first soldier had entered in response to the commotion and took off for her brother.

I focused my attention on Erebus, giving in on the now stabbing pull of his focus.

Haggar was at work in what looked like the room I had first woken up in as Gabriel. From the box she pulled a glowing purple cylinder container which she slipped into a side compartment beneath the table.

I hadn't been able to see the compartment the first time, having been on the table, so I urged Erebus closer. He slipped free of Haggar's shadow and into the one of the table, flickering his senses across it.

The cylinder clicked into a compartment that had a large device connected to a flexible hose. Erebus examined it closer but retreated quickly upon finding the sharp needles connected to the machine.

Before I could urge him forward again to sate my curiosity, a surge of electricity yanked me out of his eyes and back to my body.

Soul burning and Grace spasming, I let out a pained cry as my body jerked. The current stopped but the fact that it had been there did not stop me from giving the galra in front of me a sharp glare.

"Ignore me again and I will have them turn it on for longer," the galra said. Not a threat. A promise. "Do you understand?"

I nodded.

The galra reached up and undid the cuffs. I kept my hands shut in fists to hide the device; when my legs- human enough to hurt- gave in, I took the chance to hide it in its own pocket dimension. I would have to wait until I could get a good look at it before I trigger Father knows what messing with it.

New cuffs were slapped onto my wrists almost immediately and then I was yanked up onto my feet. My legs burned but they stayed up this time. I let my wings drag against the floor as dead weight as I could get them just to be difficult when the galra tried to drag me more than I could keep up with.

Were these the same halls that I had been dragged down so many times before? I cast my gaze across the purple walls, but I couldn't be sure. My memory of the time was hazy and better off kept behind the walls I kept trying to lock them away behind. I felt a bitter smile form on my face, remembering an archangel not even knowing how far he was from home and the little soul in his head. The bitter smile turned into a scowl as I thought of the twisted 'we' the spell had twisted them into.

And now there was me. Just me. Soul and Grace. Everything they had been and yet nothing they had ever been, all at once. Was I even a person? Was I more of one than the other or was it truly half and half? Did I have Gabriel's ruthlessness or Lance's mercy? Lance's aim or Gabriel's swordwork?

Better not to dwell on it.

The cell was roomy, compared to my first one. It was a small mercy, I suppose. The galra undid the cuffs and shoved me in when we reached it and I was not pleased to find that I had a cellmate.

Some sort of alien, with different wards draped across it in the same purple ink that marked my own skin. It glared at me before the glare dissipated and it quickly looked away, the sound of its nervous swallowing loud in the silence. The creature would have looked human if it wasn't for the pale white skin and mouth drooped open with a mouth of needle-like black teeth, and that wasn't even taking into account its gangly limbs, large black orbs for eyes, and the slits that must pass for ears. I spared a glance at the black talons edging its long fingers. Was this an attempt on the Galra's part at scaring me? By shoving me into a room with a species that would make a good portion of mortals piss themselves?

Because I was not a mortal. I couldn't care less. I could probably break its fingers as easily as snapping twigs.

"Have you been in the arena, yet?" I asked.

"Have you?" It said, voice rasped. The creature sounded like it gargled bark for a living.

"Yes."

"I have," it said. "Been in the arena, that is."

"I'm… Gance."

The alien stared at me but did not offer its own name.

"This is the part where you would tell me yours?"

It let out a sharp bark that may or may not have been a laugh, then turned its gaze away from me. A long red tongue flickered against its teeth and I felt nauseas at the sight. Disgusting creature. It reminded me of a demon almost, hideous and repulsive.

I eyed its wards before sitting down as far from it as I could get. The alien felt… wrong. Something in me twisted just at the thought of being near it.

But I wasn't afraid of it. I wasn't.


	20. Chapter 20

(Sorry about the wait. Two jobs doesn't leave much free time D:

As always, I don't own VLD or SPN. Enjoy Keith and Lance being held captive by thr Galra, because they are not enjoying it at all.)

The device was not very helpful and Rhakon was not stationed outside of my cell to be of any help. I'd already examined the entire thing about ten times before the alien cellmate snatched it out of my hand with a sudden 'will you cut that out!?' and a nasty hissing noise when I shoved the creature into the wall and spat out a barrage of curses that would make a sailor blush.

It also did not appreciate being called an it. Apparently it was a he, and he was either too brave or too stupid not to keep from spitting that at me as I wrestled the device back.

It was about the exact moment that I was pulling my fist back to punch it- sorry. HE- in his creepy-ass face that someone cleared their throat at the bars of the cell.

The guard eyed me down as I made a show of dropping my alien cellmate and held my palms up to the galra. The guard barely blinked until I returned to where I had been sitting before.

I pushed the button, half hoping for an explosion just to see the looks on their faces. Nothing happened but for a slight hum now emenating from it. I pressed it again but that only stopped the hum. I pressed it again because the hum seemed to get on my cellmate's nerves. It seemed that I would just have to trust Rahkon and his cryptic plausible deniability words.

"How long have you been here?" I asked.

The alien tapped his talons against the floor, not even deigning to look at me. Silent but for the clicking of the knives on the ends of his fingers; there was a quick flash of curiosity in me. Would it be easy to take his hand and plunge his own claws into those beady eyes?

I looked away, a shiver running through me. There wasn't enough Gabriel in me to let the idea go any further than an intrusive thought. This beast had done nothing yet to me. It unnerved my soul and my Grace, both, but it could just be the soul seeping over.

"I doubt that I have spent as long staring at the walls of a cell than you have," he said. His eldrich mouth twisted into what best resembled a twisted version of a mocking sneer.

I grit my teeth through flickers of pain against my lips and needles in my skin leeching Grace before I could direct my thoughts away from the past.

"Not the friendliest, are you?" I asked. "Then again, you must be scared."

"Scared? Of what?"

He leaned towards me and caressed my face, laughing when I jerked away. I could feel warm blood trickling down my face from where a claw had cut through skin.

"You are nothing," he hissed. "You are-"

I lunged with the speed of an archangel, my hand around his throat before he could blink those black orbs he called eyes.

"I am the archangel who could smite you with a single touch-" I tilted my head and grinned, letting my caged Grace flicker in my eyes- "and I would suggest you keep that in mind."

I caressed his face in a mockery of his earlier actions. Letting my finger trace across his pale skin inches from his eyes, I leaned in, keeping my expression blank even at the overbearing reak of hellfire he emitted like a boy's locker room reaked of lucky socks.

"Besides, haven't you heard? I'm a monster. And you don't want to turn into an irritation."

I released him.

He didn't retreat. Instead, he rubbed his throat and narrowed his pitch black eyes at me. They flashed a deep red.

"You are not the only monster in here," he said. "Whether I remain here or you send me to the Empty, I could care less."

I rolled my eyes and leaned back against my side, crossing my arms as I pouted at him. "Would it kill you to act intimidated?"

"Ask someone with a fuck left to give," he said.

"Touché."

It was silent for a minute before I grew impatient. I had spent months in silence not too long ago, alone and bored out of my (at the time quite fucked up split of a spell-frozen) mind, and for years before that as Gabriel. Even this sorry bastard was better company than the silence that had been my only companion for so long.

I checked on the shadowbeasts, a quick flash of curiosity through the connection. I got a response soon enough: Erebus still trailed Haggar, a lingering sense of boredom in him as he watched do not much of anything, and Nerezza had found what must be the food storage and was solid and tangible as she happily helped herself to whatever caught her fancy.

I chuckled and earned myself a glare from the alien.

"So-" I left my shadowbeasts to their endeavors and tried to start up another conversation with my demonic cellmate- "crossroads demon, huh? I couldn't help but notice the red eyes you flashed at me earlier. So, and this is a very serious question I assure you, how many people tried to french it when sealing the deal?"

The demon's face twisted in a funny way, as if I had just told him that I had professed my undying love to a duck.

"Depended on the vessel," he said after a couple minutes. "But there were several. Not as common as you would think but not as rare as one would hope."

I couldn't bite down the laugh.

"When I was masquerading as Loki, some of the humans tried to sleep with me in return for godly favors. And don't even get me started on the sacrifices."

For the first time, that eldrich mouth tipped into something barely resembling a smile. I hadn't been sure that it could.

"Humans, huh?"

"Yeah," I said. "We- They're really something."

We both went silent again. For the first time, the demon broke the silence a couple minutes later.

"Gabriel, right?"

Hearing the name sent a weird feeling through my gut, a warmth of familiarity. I was so used to being called Lance all the time that being called Gabriel… well.

Unable to think of anything to say, I just nodded.

The demon turned so that his body was facing me. After another long moment, he reached out a hand palm up, claws curled just slightly. I took it and shook his hand.

"Arioch," he said. "My name is Arioch."

"Demon of Vengeance," I said. "I remember you."

"I'd think so," Arioch said. "Asmodeus only hosed you and your cell down every couple decades down there so I'd be amazed if I hadn't left an impression on you."

I laughed, a mix of bitterness and my shit sense of humor finding traction.

"The opportunity for fingerpainting afterwards was a welcome relief from the boredom and terror. I drew a dick on the wall with the blood, at some point."

The demon let out a shrill and gutteral laugh.

"Well drawn, at least?"

"I had time to work on it."

He laughed again.

"A nice legacy. Shame if it was hosed off."

"It was, but it was left for a century so the stains are still there."

"Splendid," Arioch said. "Should have drawn Asmodick sucking on it."

"Would have, probably, if I was lucid enough."

"Well, if someone gets obliterated in here, make sure to draw the dick and Asmodeus sucking on it."

"Only if you'd do the same."

"Deal," Arioch said. "No kiss or soul needed."

"A demon and an archangel, getting along," I said. "What a sorry sort we are."

"You left Heaven and I gave Hell the finger," Arioch said. "Not a very natural sort in the first place, if you ask me."

"Your vessel could use some work, though. Uglier than an unwashed ass, if you ask me."

"I assure you I had a much better one. It splattered all over the last cell we saw each other in, last. You're not looking too well, yourself. Looks like you got that trap of yours you're always using sewn up."

"They didn't appreciate the beauty of my true voice. Took my sight, too. Used angel blade metal to screw a blind over my eyes and angel blade metal to sew my mouth. Anything for you, yet?"

Arioch crawled forward, moving like a spider in humanoid form. He held his arm out, comparing the wards on it to the wards on my own.

"The witch has only done her spell, so far. Vessel didn't make it, but I did not need its permission. You?"

I grabbed his hand, letting my Frankenstein monster-mix of Grace and Soul brush against my skin.

"Oof. Not Gabriel, then. But also Gabriel. That explains the Gance you originally offered me."

"Should probably call me Lance in front of the Paladins," I said. "Other than that, Gabriel is a nice change of pace."

"I do not envy you that, archangel."

"You said earlier that you've been in the arena before?"

"I haven't been here all that long, but yes. Only two so far. I've tried smoking out of my vessel, but the wards keep me trapped within it."

"Same problem."

We both fell silent as the guard clanged the side of his weapon against the bars before sliding two sets of cuffs in.

"Get them on, both of you."

Arioch reached forward first, not even blinking as the current lit up between his cuffs to yank his wrists together when he put them on. I followed his lead, giving only the slightest flinch at the clang of contact.

"A truce," Arioch whispered. "For now, archangel."

"Agreed."

The guards led us both down the halls and into a new cell that had bars on the far side, where it continued in darkness on the other side of the bars. Arioch and I were both shoved in before they deactivated our cuffs. Afterwards, the guard handed a pair of trousers through the bars to me and ordered me to dress. Afterwards, I was forced to hand over my armor, leaving me in something too similar to what I had worn the first time around.

Unable to hold my curiosity any longer, I moved to the bars on the other side and reached through, frowning as my hand hit smooth metal. It wasn't dark; there was a metal wall after the bars.

I was about to turn and ask Arioch if he knew the reason but before I could, the metal began to move. I retreated backwards a couple steps, a cold chill running through me at the familiar sight of the Arena on the other side.

I had never been in one of these, though I suppose my opponents must have entered somehow. Should have figured most of them wouldn't have fit into the cell I had had.

Arioch moved past me and into the Arena as the bars slid open.

Noticing my lack of movement, one of the guards hit the bars on the side we had entered the cell through and ordered me to move. When I didn't, a short spike of electricity shot through me from the floor. I complied after that.

I slunk over to where Arioch was, already tensed and looking for the enemy that would soon be upon us. Or maybe we were supposed to fight each other. Or-

My answer came in the form of a shrill scream just before something tackled me to the ground, a flash of orange my only warning before sharp claws were digging into the forearms I had thrown up in front of my face to protect myself.

Arioch snarled back at the thing and ripped it off of me, grey blood gushing from where he clawed at what most resembled a large bear with the head of an owl with a frill of green quills, a sharp contrast against its orange fur.

Before I could help him, a second one blindsided me and I was left wishing I had called the shadowbeasts back. I could sense them bolting towards me, but even they could only move so fast.

It occurred to me, then, that both shadowbeasts may still be too weak to help much even if they were at my side. It wasn't a pleasant thought.

I hit the ground hard, back slamming into the unforgiving dirt that had already seen my blood countless times before.

It was terrifyingly easy to fall back into the sugar-starved monster. I got my legs beneath me and kicked up into the alien beast's furry underbelly, throwing it away from me. It skidded through the dirt a couple feet and crumpled back down when it tried to get to its feet, letting out a pained cry as it did so.

I hurried after it, jumping onto it and grabbing its neck. It didn't break, only turned smoothly as I twisted. Probably should have seen that coming.

Its frill opened, sharp quills digging into my hands and arms. I ignored the pain, cutting the nerve endings as best I could as instead of twisting the head I pulled up with a sharp jerk. It had the power of an archangel behind it and I was rewarded with a loud crack, the sound of flesh tearing coming soon after.

The body went limp below me, the entire thing slumping down into dead weight. The cheers and jeers of the crowd in the stands was nothing but a familiar white noise that I learned to tune out ages ago.

I had barely climbed down from the beast before I was attacked again, this time by a teal creature made of energy that flowed around my fist when I tried to deck it. The intangibility proved to not go both ways, as it had no trouble returning the punch.

The faintly humanoid shape it held flowed and shifted, more like water that occasionally inconvenienced itself long enough to keep a bipedal form for a couple moments every few seconds. Every blow it took it flowed around, like I was trying to fight a puddle.

I was quickly losing patience trying to fight this thing. No matter what I did, it just flowed around my strikes and blows.

It hit me, throwing me to the dirt. I was on my feet again quickly and in a last ditch effort I opened my mouth to scream at it in my true voice.

But when I tried to speak, nothing came out but a gargled mess of enochian. There was no divineness to it, no matter how hard I tried. Instead, all I had was a cold terror in my gut and a human voice in my throat.

I was shoved back into the dirt by the creature, unable to do anything but try to curl up and bear the hits as it straddled me and punch me again and again. I was being hurt faster than I could heal and I couldn't even defend myself.

There was a sudden zapping sound and then the teal being was shrieking as purple electricity sparked around its wrists and yanked them together, only for a hand to punch through and yank the creature's hands through its body.

It sizzled and screamed, body losing form and plopping into a puddle of teal on the ground. Behind where it had once stood, Keith was panting, entire chest heaving, dressed in only the same type of raggy trousers that I was in.

He smiled, then, and helped me to my feet. There was no time for exchanging greetings, as the roars of several more aliens entering the fray filled the air.

"Welcome to the Arena-" I gasped out as we fell in back to back, each with nothing but our fists- "you've been lucky enough to have gotten into the Battle Royale. I've been in a few before."

"Thanks," Keith said. "I feel so honored."

I let out a breathless giggle at that.

"Keeping the cuffs," I said. "Wish I'd thought of that."

"Oh, you seemed to be doing alright, getting beat up and all."

"Oh, shut up, Keith."

Arioch rolled by about then, exchanging blows with the other owlbear alien, finally gutting it and putting it down for the count.

Keith lunged before I could stop him. He seemed to catch the demon by surprise, although I would probably be surprised if a mortal with a mullet was suddenly trying to choke me out, too.

"No! Keith, he's on our side-" I darted forward and did my best to pull the mortal off of the startled demon, who was now gasping for air more out of a lack of turning off breathing rather than any actual need for the air which had just been cut off by the arm of a rage filled teenager- "his name is Arioch. He's my cellmate."

Keith ceased his attack, but he didn't look too convinced. All in all, he didn't have time to argue considering the royale did not cease and we had to switch our focus off of attacking our ally for looking like a thing from a monster movie and onto the things actually planning on relieving us of our lives.

It seemed like an eternity of fighting before it finally ceased, long enough to the point where even I felt winded. I didn't even want to think about how exhausted Keith must be.

Arioch's chest was heaving, a mixture of differently colored blood dripping off of the end of his talons, and after a moment he crouched down and wiped them on whatever part of the ground he could reach not already covered in some sort of blood. Silent, his head turned from side to side as he examined the bloody arena, littered with multiple bodies; some were dead, some were unconscious, all were down.

Keith dropped down beside me, his black hair plastered against his face from the sweat that covered him. The way the sweat made his bare skin glisten would have resulted in a rather embarrassing situation if not for the way the blood coating him counteracted it and totally killed the mood.

"So, battle royale," Keith said, once he'd caught his breath. "Can't say I'm a fan."

"Keith. Keith Keith Keith Keith Keith," I said. "Nobody's a fan, trust me."

"I enjoy it," Arioch said. "I like the feeling of this body tearing through the bodies of these pitiful creatures."

"Arioch, shut your creepy mouth," I said.

Demons; nasty little fuckers. Nontheless, at least he seemed to be on our side.

For now.

Our moment of peace was interrupted by galran guards, entering with the things I'd always likened to cattle prods. I had never actually seen them before, but they didn't look too different from actual cattle prods.

Keith and I were already being herded in separate directions.

They always took me to the witch after battle royales. Used them as a way to ensure I was too tired of fighting to even think about putting up any sort of fight against whatever caught her fancy. Frantic and afraid, I reached out and grabbed his hand.

"Don't cause trouble, Keith," I said. "Don't take risks you don't absolutely have to take. Trust me."

He gave a jerky nod. When the guards ordered us apart, I let go of his hand and retreated from the prods.

I caught a glimpse of him before being herded out of the Arena. I was alone, with even Arioch led in the direction of our cell. But Keith hadn't looked afraid.

And I wouldn't be afraid either.

I wouldn't.


	21. Chapter 21

(I dont own VLD or SPN)

The witch had me brought to the room Erebus had found earlier, with the needled machine with the purple ink. Arioch was brought in alongside me, both of us cuffed and guarded by the armed guards.

There was an black scale and fur covered alien on the table, a creature that looked like the bastard love child of Slenderman and a bat in that it had the top half of a bat and furry bird-like talons; the Slenderman part came in the four tendrils on its back, each one ending in a wickedly sharp bone-blade that stirred a distant memory of the tail blade of some alien in a book series I'd read once in my human life.

The tendrils (more like fur-less monkey tails, I saw now that I could see them better) were each tied down, twitching occasional. It bore tattoos more similar to mine than to Arioch's, the ink still gleaming in the dim lighting and the needle still wet with purple ink. The little bat nose twitched as it looked around with blank eyes.

Purple magic glimmered around Haggar's hands as she reached forward and cupped the creature's temples. When she closed her eyes, a guard near the table turned to a set of machines and tapped a series of taps against the screens while another turned a couple knobs and dials.

There was a sickening ripping sound in the air that was replaced by the sound of an angel screaming in my head. I dropped to my knees, gasping at the fear and terror and confusion as the alien on the table gasped (and a celestial glow burned in its eyes until all that could be seen was the glow of Grace).

The creature spasmed and twitched, writhing against its restraints, and the angel inside it screamed.

My Grace burned within me and I shoved with all the strength in my immortal body. The guards stumbled as I ripped free, and I lunged for the angel.

The guards moved to stop me, but Haggar (who I would have taken joy in shoving out of my way if the piercing shriek of the dying angel trapped inside the alien on the table hadn't been all I knew) said something I didn't take the time to hear.

I cupped the alien's face, using the skin to skin contact to reach out to this angel the way I hadn't been able to do for the last.

Younger. Probably barely more than a fledgling around the time Lucifer fell. I brushed closer against its Grace and was finally able to place its name. Vohamanah. Angel of Optimism. We used to jokingly call this angel 'Heaven's Moral Support.'

There wasn't much to be positive about, right now.

"It's alright, little one," I said, both through the radio and through my voice, trying and failing to keep my tears from my eyes and my voice. "You're alright. I'm here."

The panic settled but did not cease. The alien continued to twitch, but its struggles (both that of body and Grace) were beginning to weaken.

The angel's Grace twisted and churned, shredding piece by piece within an unwilling vessel. It wasn't moving to the vessel's head. It wasn't trying to get to the mind and soul to try and gain permission. Why wasn't it even trying?

!!!I can't- please- what- where- I don't know what's happening- it's alive- I'm trapped- can't reach!!!!

Oh.

There was nothing I could do to save my sibling. This angel was going to die. Right here, right now.

And I couldn't do anything about it.

Humans had been built with the possibility of being vessels in mind. Father, in all the multiverses he may have a part in making, hadn't thought about the idea when making other species. In the same way that an angel could not gain honest consent from an animal rather than a human, an angel could not gain honest consent from an alien. The lines and connections weren't there.

That was why all the other angels hadn't survived.

That was why I had.

Because my vessel was human.

And Arioch? What demon needed permission?

I soothed the angel as best I could, humming old enochian songs from when Heaven was still a home, while it died. I brushed its tears away with my cuffed hands and listened to it cry and wail and beg. The writhing became shudders, the shudders became trembling, and the trembling settled into twitching which slowed more and more.

Finally, it grew still, the angel killing its unwilling host as it curled up what was still left of itself as the body it was trapped in tore it away. Its screams, by this point, had faded into broken sobs.

"It's alright, Vohamanah," I said. "You're alright. I'm here. Everything's going to be okay."

The angel's crying grew silent. Slowly, so horribly slowly, its iron grip on life faded and it slipped away from me. Vohamanah blinked out of angel radio, leaving behind only the dying embers of what was once an angel's Grace within the body Vohamanah had been forced into.

It happened in a matter of minutes, just like the last one, but felt like hours.

The guards pulled me away and forced me to my knees and I didn't fight. Angels have no bodies for those who remain to cling to. They just are. And then they aren't.

And all that remains is the ashy remnants of what was once Grace.

Haggar reached forward and pried open the corpse's mouth, hissing words in a language other than her native as she made a series of motion with her hand above the body's mouth. For a moment, nothing happened, and then a small glow seeped free from the mouth, a soft silver-blue glow that she caught in a small glass vial and capped shut the instant she'd caught every last drop of the strands of Grace that had caught on the body when the angel was being torn apart.

She turned and tapped a specific part of the wall nearest her. It slid open to reveal something not unlike a walk-in freezer.

And inside it, the walls were lined with vials of Grace. There had been hundreds, if not thousands, of my siblings to have been dragged from the Empty to die on this bitch's table. I wasn't the first. And (twice now) I was proved not to be the last.

I heard a noise. An inhuman, broken noise, like a dying animal had taken a breath and found that every part of it had been shattered. There was an edge of celestial voice to it. Not enough to hurt or to kill, but an accidental tone that would make those who heard it feels as if they were shattered, too. Figures that the only time I don't reach for it since failing when I tried in the Arena was when I didn't try at all.

An angel's grief.

My grief.

It was I, making that sound.

How many of us were dead back home? Where did the angels who died after being dragged from the Empty into this universe go? Back to the Empty or ceasing to exist entirely?

The witch was uncaring to my agony. Haggar put all that remained of Vohamanah into a free spot on the many racks. The angel (who'd, even after Reeducation after Reeducation after Reeducation, never failed to smile and greet me with an enthusiastic hello back when we both were in Heaven, who held all the love angels were supposed to have, who once cried over one of the first litters of puppies in some of the first domesticated dogs simply for being cute) now just a vial of Grace collecting dust on a Galra ship beside hundreds of others who'd shared the same painful fate.

When I set my eyes upon the witch as she turned from her vials and looked upon me with a smug look on her face (look- her smirk demanded- look at what I've done and what I'll do, look because I have caged you and what could you possibly do to me, you who is broken who is trapped who is weakened who is cut), I knew one thing with absolute certainty.

"You got an up close look at the process," she said. She paused for a long and dramatic moment, letting her words rot between us. "Such a shame, isn't it? You were and are my only success in regards to angels. I want you to tell me why. I want you to tell me what you know."

It took a minute to find the capability to speak. My throat, long since healed, was as raspy as the day the thread was cut from my lips.

"What I know," I croaked. "You ask me what I know?"

The witch said nothing. Did nothing. Only stood and stared me down. I, an archangel on my knees. She, the witch who towered above me.

I was still tired from the Arena. I was exhausted physically and mentally. Of this. Of all of this.

And I remembered how that little fledgling would rush to greet every angel coming back from a mission with more joy and happiness than any other angel ever even dared to show.

"I know that those are my siblings. My younger siblings. The ones I failed to protect then and the ones I failed to protect now."

I looked up at her and smiled a big and toothy grin as I spread my wings as far as they could go. I laughed as the guards flinched away as the lights flickered and the shadow of my wings loomed large and imposing.

I forced my tired feet to move, pulling them beneath me and pushing myself up. I stood, refusing to kneel to Haggar.

The archangel Gabriel kneels for no one.

And I felt more like Gabriel than I have in a long, long time.

"I know that I'm going to burn everything that matters to you to the ground."

The witch stared me down. I stared back.

"I know a lot of things, Haggar," I continued. "But most of all, I also know how to keep my mouth shut. And isn't that even worse? I know the exact reason why your experiments are failing. I know the exact reason why I didn't. And isn't that, knowing that I have the answers you don't know enough to notice, and I'll never give those answers to you, won't that hurt you worse than anything you could ever do to me?"

The guards tried to force me back down. I let the warmth of visibility flood through my wings and a single flap of all six sent them flying into the wall. I kept them there, smothering them with the golden limbs.

I looked her in the eye and held the stare, letting my Grace flicker in my eyes.

And there it was. A glimmer of fear, the slightest bit of panic in her expression.

I smiled and folded my wings neatly against my back without another word, letting visibility and tangibility seep free. I held my cuffed hands out with a smirk, pleased by the wariness of the petrified guards as they returned to my side.

"Dramatic terror birds," Arioch grumbled, quiet enough for the mortals not to pick up. Not quiet enough for my enhanced hearing.

"Oh, sweetheart, you flatter me," I told him with a wink.

The guards grabbed my offered wrists, guns ready this time. They'd been expecting the broken beast that they had once had in their grasp, and they would not be making that mistake again.

Haggar regained her composure but before she could say anything the door slid open behind us.

Rhakon stood in the doorway, gun tucked under one arm. He looked at the scene before him for a moment before clearing his throat.

"Hey, uh- my shift ended a while ago but nobody's come to tell me I can leave and Turlock already took over the guard change. Is it okay if I go home? I can drop the prisoners back off at their cells on my way out."

Haggar let out a worldweary sigh and turned back to her machines. "Bring… bring the angel in later tonight. I have a couple matters to think over."

The guards, on the other hand, were more than happy to hand me over. One stayed to take Arioch, but the other left the room like his ass was on fire.

Rhakon grabbed hold of my shoulder and eased me towards the door.

"Hold."

His hand tensed, claws digging into my shoulder slightly before he quickly forced himself to relax.

Haggar narrowed her eyes, the pupiless yellow orbs burning into me as she smiled.

"I'll be sure to use the time to think up much more creative ways for us to spend our time together. We'll make an honest creature out of you yet, Liesmith. You, guard-" she waved a dismissive hand- "take it back to the cell and you may return to your barracks for the night."

"I- I was told I would be to take a short leave to-"

"Barracks."

Rhakon dipped his head in acknowledgement even as a spike of fear flickered against my Grace where his hand held my shoulder. "Yes, Haggar."

The fear shifted into a deep and lingering mix of dread and acceptance.

He led me into the hall, keeping me in front of him.

"Have you activated the tracker?" Rhakon whispered to me, pretending to yank me up and growling the words. Make them think I'm threatening the prisoner don't let Tetran hear me, his thoughts screamed through the hand on my shoulder.

A tracker. Well, now I just felt stupid.

"Yes," I whispered back.

"The Blade will pick it up-" he paused and lifted his voice as he shoved me- "walk faster!"

He leaned in to whisper again, making a show of yanking me back to balance.

"I suspect they'll have one of their own cut shielding and then the Blade will stage an attack to rescue you and your companion, as well as the other prisoners. Voltron will also likely make an appearance."

"I thought-" I shook my head- "nevermind. Rhakon… thank you."

"Don't thank me," he said, a small smile showing just slightly on his face. "I didn't do anything."

He stopped as we reached the cell, waiting for the other guard to shove Arioch in before Rhakon undid my cuffs. I walked in without prompting, rubbing the sore skin where the metal and electricity had chafed and sparked against my wrists.

Rhakon nodded to Tetran after the other galra soldier had undone Arioch's cuffs, then holstered his gun and headed down the hall.

"Off to Barracks?" Tetran asked.

"Might stop at the kitchen and snag some Ralnip and Richt, actually."

"Special occasion?"

Rhakon smiled and shrugged.

"Something like that, I suppose."

"Good luck convincing Frash," Tetran said.

"I'll make something up," Rhakon said. "Make up for not being able to take my leave to the Thereoceo quadrant."

"Hey, you'll see them soon enough."

"Uh, yeah," Rhakon said, looking away. "Yeah, I guess so."

He spared one last glance at Arioch and I before turning and leaving, boots almost silent against the floor.

Tetran leaned backed against the wall of the cell, almost immediately pulling out some sort of holopad, scrolling through what oddly resembled an unfamiliar social media-like display in Galra writing. From what I could see, that was pretty much the gist of it.

Arioch had returned to his corner, already tapping his still bloody talons against the metal floor.

I moved to my own corner and pulled the tracker device from my pocket.

I lowered it to the floor, slipping it into my own shadow. A dark muzzle reached up, jaw closing shut around it before sinking back down.

"Take it to Keith," I said. "I want to ensure he gets out of here. Stick close to him. I'll handle myself."

Erebus and Nerezza both grumbled their consent before slipping away towards where Keith had (as they informed me upon finding him) been returned to his cell.

An hour passed. Then another.

And then Tetran jerked to attention as the lights flickered and the ground wobbled, dropping his holopad as the air filled with an ear-splitting siren.

A second later, the door clicked as the lights and siren went dead.

I stood and moved to the door, easily sliding it open now.

Tetran stumbled away from me, scrambling for his gun.

I grinned and let the lights fizzle back on and pop, displaying the shadow of my massive wings.

"Run."

He dropped his weapon and bolted.

Arioch left the cell, crushing the galran gun beneath his foot as he did so. He looked to me, then.

"Well? I'm sure you've got a play in this, Gabriel. So what now?"

"Do as you will-" my grin grew into one of malice- "I have a witch to find."

(AN- Hey, guys, some news regarding my VLD/SPN crossovers.

So to be honest, Season 7 was killing my love for Voltron and then Season 8 killed my love for Voltron entirely. Allurance, although my guilty pleasure ship, had next to no buildup to it and I can't bring myself to ship characters who don't really have romantic chemistry, especially when the only ground work was Lance getting shot down by her all the time only for her to do a 180 at the last minute. Voltron, a show that seemed based on teamwork, seemed to pull a shift, too, as the characters seemed to drift apart from each other.

VLD as a whole did have a lot of toxic people, but it also had even more nontoxic people. It kinda sucked watching the toxic fans ruin everything for everyone else all the time and hearing about people leaving the fandom just because of the fans who were toxic. But I've always made a point of judging a fandom on its content and not the fans themselves; in the first few seasons, the people making VLD put love into it and it showed! But as time went on, they seemed to lose their love in their creation and unfortunately that showed, too.

Just because I've lost love for Voltron does NOT mean I've lost my love for Space Salt and Monster of the Arena. I still love the characters and universes I have created, and every single review never fails to make my day and make it allcworth it. I'm not abandoning either one.

Unfortunately, after they're complete, I don't see myself writing any more Voltron stories in the forseeable future. The Voltron stories still in my documents that are not MOTA chapters or parts of the Space Salt series will most likely not reach publication.

But I will definetly still be writing on this site long after these two crossovers are complete! You can expect plenty more crossovers and stories, just none of them will include Voltron. Thank you all for being by my side so far and I hope you all enjoy what's still left to come for MOTA and the Space Salt Series.)


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